


Always Say I'm Gonna Stop

by kaciagemini



Category: Glee
Genre: Drug Use, Gay Bashing, Homophobia, Infidelity, M/M, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, impaired judgment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-18
Updated: 2012-10-18
Packaged: 2017-11-16 13:46:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaciagemini/pseuds/kaciagemini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers through 4x04.  Blaine isn’t good at dealing with loneliness and he really needs to work on that.  There’s no such thing as a quick fix. (Or: Yet another fix-it fic for The Break Up)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Say I'm Gonna Stop

**Author's Note:**

> I’m still trying to wrangle Blaine’s behavior in 4x04 into making sense with what we knew about him before then, so here’s one unlikely explanation. I’ve done my best to treat every character fairly, even the ones we don’t know much about in canon; everybody has their own motivations and nobody’s perfect. I’m happy to hear how you think I did even if you didn’t like it, though. The title is a modified line from Katy Perry’s “Last Friday Night”.

The beginning of high school wasn’t good to Blaine. He didn’t broadcast that he was gay, but somehow everyone seemed to know. He didn’t really have any friends. He didn’t get hassled a lot, a few persistent hecklers and some occasional shoving, but mostly he was just ignored. So when he heard about a party, totally not by walking too slowly past people talking near their lockers, he made up his mind to go. He didn’t really know the neighborhood or the kids who would be there, but he’d take anything at that point just so he wouldn’t be a complete social failure. 

He got lost taking the bus across town and didn’t find the place until after dark; luckily it wasn’t hard to figure out which house it was; there were teenagers loitering all over the lawn and lights and music spilling out the open door. Nobody paid any attention when he wandered in but he counted that as a success, infiltration completed. He took a cup of the pinkish punch everyone else seemed to have; it tasted like mouthwash but he had another drink anyway. He felt strange at first, out of place, but after a while and another cup everything got fuzzy and warm and it all seemed easier. He danced near people, he talked to people who totally didn’t ignore him, and he spent half an hour making out with a girl on a very comfortable sofa. It didn’t turn him on in more than a vague “hey, there are body parts touching my body parts” way, but it was still fun so he figured there was no harm in it. Eventually he wandered off for another drink and found his way to a different part of the house. There were people smoking in the backyard and somebody offered him a cigarette. He figured in for a penny, in for a pound, and tried not to look like a stupid freshman when he inhaled and choked. They definitely had the right idea about this, he decided, when it made his head even spinnier. He had another.

***

When he woke up the next day, he head was pounding, he felt sick, and it took him several minutes to remember where he was. After drinking about a gallon of water straight from the tap and finding his way home he went back to bed and slept most of the day away. Sunday he felt human again and decided that, objectively, he would count his first high school party as a success. Definitely a success, he thought Monday, when a girl waved at him in the hall. He was pretty sure it was the girl he’d made out with but luckily she seemed happy with a waving in the hallway level of relationship. Friday morning one of the guys who’d offered him a cigarette last weekend asked if he was going to the party this weekend. He extracted the necessary information about when and where as casually as possible and waited until he was alone to do a fist pump of joy. Nobody really talked to him still, and they weren’t friends exactly but at least a couple of people acknowledged his existence on a regular basis in the hall or class. He figured he could only go up from there. 

It became a thing he did and he felt awesome whenever he remembered that. He was one of the party kids. For a few blurry hours every Friday night he was cool enough to talk to and dance with and make out with and smoke with. Saturdays he would crawl off whatever floor he’d passed out on, make his way home, and ignore the world until he turned back into boring normal Blaine. Sundays he did his homework in time to start the week over again and pray for Friday. His parents never even seemed to notice he was gone. The whole house got so much quieter after Cooper went to college that Blaine sometimes thought his parents forgot they even had another kid.

***

One weekend one of the girls he’d kissed a few times was talking about a different party she was heading out to in a nearby town; it sounded fun so he ended up catching a ride with her and her friends. That party turned out to be even more awesome because there were so many great people. The best part was that after he passed out and woke up the next day, the party just started up again. He finally ended up back in the right city and made his way home sometime Sunday evening. He was pretty sure he was still a little drunk, or possibly high. He thought maybe he’d taken some pills to make himself feel better at some point and they must have worked because he felt great. It wasn’t so great Monday morning but he called his mom at work to tell her he was feeling too sick to make it to school and she called in to school for him. He figured he’d just have to be careful not to get so carried away again. 

He’s pretty sure it was some time during the fuzzy blur of that weekend he met Eli. He didn’t even remember him at all when a text showed up Thursday from an unknown number asking if he’d be out partying Friday and where. He answered but it wasn’t until he walked in to the party and saw a hot blond guy that he remembered kissing him. Of course, Eli, that was why he’d stayed at the Saturday party until well into Sunday, because he’d finally been hiding away in a darkened room kissing someone he was attracted to. How did he forget that? He resolved that there was no way he was going to forget a moment of it this time so he only had a couple of drinks before he convinced Eli that no one would notice them slipping away to find somewhere with a door that locked. Suddenly that became his new pattern for weekends, coordinating parties with Eli, getting trashed and finding somewhere to be alone so they could kiss and rub against each other and sometimes stick their hands down each other’s pants. 

He asked Eli a few times why they didn’t ever go out on real dates or at least go somewhere not surrounded by other drunk teenagers, but mostly he just reveled in the fact that a hot guy wanted him. When Eli said they couldn’t be in a relationship because he’d be graduating in May and couldn’t have that kind of commitment it made sense, and when Eli encouraged him to kiss him again it hardly seemed worth worrying about. Months went by that way and Blaine thought he should be happy with what he had. He was a fun guy, damn it; he always knew where to find the parties and most people didn’t make fun of him at school (or look at him) and he had a thing that was not entirely different from a boyfriend. He was careful never to call him that out loud, but he did in his head sometimes and it always made him smile. 

***

Blaine wasn’t sure whose idea it had originally been to crash the Sadie Hawkins dance, but it floated around until it felt like a group consensus. Most of the regulars would show up at the dance and it would be hilarious trying to pretend they weren’t drunk around the rest of the students. Later Blaine thinks they definitely must have been high to have thought it was a good idea, or at least he must have been. Eli thought it would be fun, though, so Blaine was definitely in. They all pre-gamed at someone’s house and Blaine and Eli split a joint in the back of someone else’s car on the way over. It really was a pretty good time, as it turned out, not lame like the pseudo-dances he remembered from middle school where kids mostly just sat on the bleachers or leaned against a wall. Instead it was loud and lively and there were lots of people dancing, almost like a real party. Most of them were probably the people he came with, and thus trashed out of their minds, but apparently either they were better at acting normal than he thought or the couple of chaperones really didn’t give a fuck. 

Eli pulled him away to a bathroom down a darkened hall and Blaine didn’t even give it a second thought before he went with him. They kissed sloppily and jerked each other off even more sloppily, then stumbled out half an hour later still drying their hands with paper towels. 

That’s when everything went to shit. Blaine was stumbling a little and Eli sort of held him up while trying to make it look like he wasn’t necessary to Blaine’s continuing ability to walk in case someone decided to care. There was a rumbling nearby and it took Blaine a moment to realize they were voices, a couple of people muttering angry noises to each other that might have resolved into words if Blaine had been in a better condition to listen. They were jocks of some kind, Blaine was pretty sure, not anyone he knew at all, maybe wrestling or hockey? Eli froze and that was when Blaine started to worry.

“You think we don’t know what you were doing in there? You’re just a couple of filthy queers.” The other two backed the mouthy one up with agreeing noises but didn’t really seem interested in talking.

“No, we weren’t-” Blaine tried to protest and Eli just shook his head.

“Don’t even lie, queer kid, I know who you are and I saw the two of you sneaking away together.”

They moved in closer and Blaine felt his heart start to race in panic. He wondered if you could have a heart attack from stress when you were only 15. 

The cronies synchronized their shoves so that Blaine and Eli both fell back at once. Eli stumbled but kept his ground while Blaine hit the floor so hard he couldn’t catch his breath. Blaine tried to cry out some kind of warning as though that would accomplish anything, but it certainly didn’t stop the mouthy one from punching Eli in the face. Eli struggled to fight back, striking out inexpertly but even when he landed a hit it didn’t seem to have any effect on the burly jock. The other two moved in on Blaine and seemed to have found their voices because they were suddenly telling him how disgusting and worthless he was, such a useless fag and Blaine couldn’t seem to right himself before they were practically on top of him. He kicked out wildly trying to hit their shins, ankles, something that would hurt enough to stop them, but though one stumbled for a second, they quickly returned his hits with interest. He tried to curl up, make himself a smaller target so that at least they were hitting his legs, his back, but not anywhere more delicate. One of them hit the back of his head and the world started spinning even more than it already had been. 

He wasn’t sure how long it had been before he realized the hitting had stopped. He could hear scrambling, running. Someone was yelling again, he thought. He tried to unfurl himself but everything hurt and the world was spinning and he thought he might throw up. Moving was definitely overrated. He really hoped Eli didn’t need his help. 

***

The next thing Blaine was really aware of was waking up somewhere with way too many lights and what felt worse than the worst hangover he’d ever had. Eventually he pried his eyes open enough to realize he was in a hospital. His mom was sitting in a nearby chair and he could hear his dad yelling something disapproving somewhere not too far away. He thought that was maybe what woke him. 

Eventually he learned that one of the chaperones had heard something suspicious and ended up scaring off the jocks and calling 911. If he hadn’t, Blaine might have ended up with worse than the mild concussion, cracked ribs, and more bruises than he wants to think about to deal with. His parents seemed angry at everything though his mom kept insisting they weren’t mad at him. They wanted to know what he was doing with that boy who was so much older than him, 18 already, why he was drunk at the dance, what kind of friends he’s been hanging out with that led him to act so carelessly. He never said, “This didn’t happen because I was drunk, mom, it happened because I was gay,” but he thought it very loudly. There were no charges brought up because the chaperone didn’t get a good enough look to be sure who did it and Blaine’s dad just wanted it all to go away as quickly as possible. He never said it in exactly so many words but there were a lot of “the sooner we get past this” phrases, like he wanted to forget it happened. 

Blaine kind of wanted to forget, too, but the cracked ribs made him remember every time he did something stupid like breathe. He really could have used a drink about a thousand times over those first few weeks but he was pretty much on lockdown. His parents told him Eli had only received minor injuries and was already released before Blaine woke up. He wanted to text him and make sure he was okay, but his phone had been broken at the dance and he didn’t remember the number. He got a new phone with an empty address book and no one texted him or called. He ended up being out for the whole last month of school, doing his classes by correspondence. He probably could have managed to go back for some of it, physically, but pushing for it would have been pointless.

***

Once Blaine finished his coursework for the year and could also stand up without wincing every time, his dad started in with the car. He wanted to restore the car together, he said, so they could bond. Blaine didn’t really care one way or the other but it seemed like maybe it would make his dad happy and it’ll be nice to have wheels already planned out for when he hit 16. Unfortunately his dad never said a word that didn’t relate to the task at hand. They even talked about the car at dinner. Mom would ask how it was going and listen to Dad’s detailed explanation while never quite meeting Blaine’s eyes. She never seemed to anymore. Eventually the car was done and his dad stopped trying to talk to him at all. 

***

When the application forms for Dalton were left on his bed, he filled them out without a word of discussion. It definitely wasn’t worth fighting to stay when he’d felt like a ghost in his own home for most of the last year. 

***

He had everything he’d need for his dorm room packed away and ready for the semester when he took another long look in the mirror and another long glance at the Dalton pamphlet. He asked his mom to take him out to buy hair gel. He was determined to get it right this time, and it would all start with the right look, he was sure. He knew who he wanted to be and he wasn’t leaving it to chance. He’d had a lot of practice at being self-assured when he was drunk so he was pretty sure he could pull it off with a group of fresh faces who’d never met the Old Blaine. And he had an ace in the hole, the famed Dalton Warblers. Singing never got him anywhere at his old school but at Dalton it was popularity currency, and he was cashing in.

***

Maybe it makes Blaine shallow that he’s happy with his life at Dalton. He did even better than he’d expected with the Warblers, not just getting in but quickly skyrocketing to lead soloist. The other Warblers adore him, even the ones who are older than him. They’re all casually friendly; there’s always someone to hang out with, someone to talk to, someone to watch movies with or plan a new musical arrangement. Maybe they aren’t the deepest of friends, don’t understand him or who he used to be, but that’s how he likes it and it’s not like he had anything like that before anyway. New Blaine, reinvented Blaine, is sort of hollow. He’s a person-shaped outline moving through the world and taking up the place where a regular person belongs, but he’s fine with that because the outline is finally someone he likes. Then Kurt walks into his life. 

At first it’s just nice having another person admire him, look up to him. Then they start to really connect, have meaningful conversations. He feels like Kurt is filling him in between the lines, adding colors and textures and shadows so that eventually he’s a picture of what a person should be. Then he looks up one day and sees Kurt and _feels_ something and he realizes Kurt did that, Kurt brought a mere picture to life. He’s a person now and it’s all because Kurt forced him to become more than a carefully edited copy of himself.

Kurt is clearly something special and maybe that’s why it’s so hard to tell him the truth. The line about leaving his old school because of bullying came out of his mouth automatically, it’s part of New Blaine’s story. He thinks of it not as being a lie but as a shortcut. There’s no pat, easy way to explain, to say, “my old school was slowly destroying my soul and making me drink too much and I think my sort-of-boyfriend-sort-of-hook-up never actually liked me and everything made me feel worthless and broken and then some guys beat the shit out of me for being gay and my parents don’t even know I exist, so I decided I hated myself and I should be someone else instead”. 

Sometimes he wants to tell Kurt the real story, the whole story, knows it’s wrong that he’s keeping something this serious from him. At the very beginning maybe it had made sense because they weren’t the kind of friends who exchanged dating histories (though come to think of it, he’d known about Kurt’s lack thereof pretty much right away), but there’s no excuse now. It’s hardest to keep up the lie when they’re sharing something important like the first time they kiss, or when they go to prom together, or the first time they have sex (because what happened with Eli was never that. He refuses to count it as sex because if it counts then that means he doesn’t even remember his first time, lost somewhere in a hazy weekend bender he’s never managed to recall all of. This means something, this _matters_ like Kurt says, so it has to be the first time). 

He wants to tell so that Kurt can understand him even better, but something always stops him. Kurt likes Blaine how he is now. He would have hated Old Blaine. He would probably hate even the idea of Old Blaine and New Blaine, how he’s a fraud even though it’s not true anymore, he’s a whole person because Kurt made him finally want to become one. He doesn’t think he could explain that, though, and definitely not without a lot of booze for courage, which would probably defeat the purpose. 

The truth is that he likes the person he’s become; he doesn’t really like to think about Old Blaine if he can help it. New Blaine is far superior, with all his friends and respect and self-esteem, and yeah maybe he’s made a fool of himself a few times working out this persona (Jeremiah springs to mind, who knew learning to be romantic was so hard?), but he’s still miles better than what he was before. He rationalizes it away. It’s not that big of a deal. It’s not like he was a drug addict or a prostitute or anything. So he used to party a little, so what? Just because he carefully never mentions it to Kurt doesn’t mean he’s being dishonest. It’s the single mar on the perfection of his new life. 

***

Blaine thought he was doing fine. He’s been living as New Blaine for two years, and feeling like he fits inside that skin for a year and a half, both longer spans than he was Old Blaine, that stupid naive drunken teenager. He’s a sophisticated young adult and telling his boyfriend to follow his dream is the mature thing to do, the right thing to do for the man he loves. Kurt deserves everything and this is something Blaine has the power to give, his blessing, so of course he gives it. 

He regrets it almost immediately. 

Blaine had no idea his layers were so imperfectly tacked on. He feels like a caricature of himself within weeks after Kurt leaves. First he’s a photo-perfect picture of a person, and then he can feel the details and the colors fading away until he’s just an outline again. He loses ground every time he talks to Kurt and Kurt sounds happy and excited about his life and every not-Blaine thing in it. Blaine hates himself for being upset, so he tries to hide it from Kurt. He gets more irrationally mad when it works; Kurt used to be able to tell what he was thinking almost before he knew himself but now he accepts the surface Blaine shows. It makes him feel like he’s already lost something desperately important. What if he loses it all, turns back into Old Blaine? Kurt would never want him then. He can feel himself wanting to fall into that and he hates it, how easily he could find a party, a drink, a smoke, something to get him through a few more days of feeling like he’s no one. He tries to fill up the space in his outline with New Directions but it’s not enough; he tries more clubs but they feel like nothing but finger paints, garish and already dripping off the page; he runs for class president and wins but he still feels hollow and alone.

***

He’s still smarting from how abruptly Kurt ended their call, and annoyed at himself for being so hurt by it, when he gets a friend request from Eli. He hasn’t spoken to him in more than two years now and hasn’t thought about him in a long time; it feels like fate or temptation that he’s suddenly here now. He accepts the request because they were friends once, sort of, and he’s always felt a little guilty for not worrying more about Eli after the attack. He’ll reassure himself that Eli’s doing fine and that will be one less thing to weigh on him. 

Eli messages him as soon as he accepts the request and they chat for half the afternoon. He’s at college, not too far away because he thought he’d miss his family too much otherwise. He’s a junior, but he might end up taking an extra year because he’s changed his major 3 times already but he’s pretty sure about this one. He’s seeing someone but it’s not serious. Blaine tells him a little bit about his year at Dalton and his boyfriend who’s away at college and winning Nationals with glee club last year and how he just got elected class president. It’s funny because as much as Eli wants to hear about him now, they never talked about these kinds of things when they knew each other before. Eli never wanted to talk about anything as deep as how his day was, he just wanted to get high or get off or preferably both. Blaine thinks maybe he’s grown as a person.

“Do you still party like you used to?” Eli asks, “Man, remember how wild we used to get?”

Blaine flushes because now the thought of jerking someone off in a closet leaning against the door seems embarrassing instead of exciting. “Nah, my wild youth is pretty much done with,” he says. Every time he’s picked it back up since then hasn’t ended well. Trying to date Rachel? Trying to pressure his boyfriend into sex in a parking lot? He’s well aware that drunk and partying Blaine is far too close to stupid, stupid Old Blaine.

“That’s a shame,” Eli says. “College parties are amazing; those crapfests we hung out at don’t hold a candle to most of my friends here. Let me know if you change your mind! My roommates are throwing some kind of shindig tonight and it should be pretty wild.”

Not likely, Blaine thinks, but for some reason what he types is, “Sure, I’ll let you know.”

***

School let out hours ago. All the after school clubs are long gone. Blaine’s been half-heartedly working on plans for what he’s going to accomplish during his presidential term because that’s what he’s reduced to on a Friday night now. Kurt was supposed to call him when he got a chance but Blaine is pretty sure that’s not going to happen. Kurt’s so overwhelmed, has so many things to do; he can hardly be expected to remember to call. Blaine tries calling him just in case there’s been some sort of miraculous reprieve from work and it just slipped Kurt’s mind to call. It goes to voicemail but Blaine doesn’t leave a message. Maybe the missed call will be an extra reminder for Kurt to call once he gets the chance. 

Blaine tries to concentrate on presidential planning. He should probably go home, eat dinner. Or maybe go out and have some coffee and work on this some more. When did he get so lame? Maybe some of his friends are doing something more interesting with their night and he can tag along. He flips open his phone to check facebook. No promising statuses in sight and barely anyone’s online. For a minute he misses the Dalton dorms where there was always a captive audience available for events. For a second he misses the endless stream of Friday nights in Old Blaine’s world; he would never have been in such a quandary. He notices Eli’s online and wonders how his party’s going. Before he can second-guess himself, he pokes Eli. Eli’s reply is almost immediate.

“What’s up sexy? Wanna come over?” 

Clearly the party’s going well if Eli’s already drunk. He always used to call Blaine that after a few drinks, usually whispered in his ear while his hand was going for Blaine’s zipper. His options for his evening spread before him: go home where there are decent odds he’ll be alone with leftovers from the fridge or doing what amounts to homework in an empty school and drinking coffee by himself, both of which come with a healthy side of waiting desperately for his boyfriend to have time to call so he can feel alive for a few minutes at a time. Or he could check out Eli’s party, maybe meet his new friends, have a guaranteed good time and maybe forget for a moment how badly he wants to talk to Kurt.

He asks Eli for the address.

***

He feels strangely at home walking in. It reminds him of the first high school party he ever crashed, probably because he doesn’t know any of these people. Everyone’s older, probably a lot of these people could even legally buy their own alcohol but mostly the vibe isn’t that different. He’s glad he stopped home to shower and change before he came because his usual clothes would have stood out in a terribly awkward way that the fitted jeans and black t-shirt he’s in avoid. Skipping the hair gel after years of worrying about it every day hadn’t felt weird at all, actually, and that probably should have been the first thing to make him worry. Turning himself back into Old Blaine shouldn’t be this easy, like he’d just brushed away the flimsy top layer to find him waiting underneath. Eli looks older, but mostly the same and he’s as exuberant a drunk as always. He spots Blaine and immediately comes crashing across the room to grab him in a hug. Blaine hugs back, and thinks maybe he did sort of miss Eli. Eli grabs him a drink, something unnaturally green that tastes sour and very, very strong and drags him around introducing him to people.

“This is my ex, Blaine!” he says, over and over again, and Blaine almost wants to make him clarify “ex-what?” because they’d never been an official anything, but it seems like it would be rude. Everyone acts suitably impressed and some of them coo and call him adorable which makes him flush. Everything makes him flush more easily when he’s drinking. After a few drinks he’s ready to dance and that entertains him for a while, dancing with Eli and his new friends and people he doesn’t know at all and girls in extremely short skirts and guys who aren’t wearing shirts for no apparent reason. It is kind of warm, though, so maybe that’s why they’re not wearing shirts. It’s sort of starting to sound appealing. 

“I’m going out for a smoke,” Eli says into his ear because it’s the only way to be heard over the noise, “Coming?” and Blaine does because smoking goes best with drinking. He’s never actually smoked anything, legal or otherwise, when he wasn’t already drunk. Turns out he did mean pot, not cigarettes, but Blaine was pretty much cool either way. Less chemicals this way, anyhow. Everything’s even more cheerfully swimmy when they eventually come back in. Blaine has another drink, though this one is orange. He dances sandwiched in between Eli and some girl and has to keep pushing back against Eli because the girl is grinding on him and no matter that everything feels good when he’s like this, he’s pretty sure he’s learned the lesson about turning half-straight when he drinks. He’s not sure how much later it is when he decides that it’s definitely too warm for a shirt. He’s not sure where it goes after he takes it off but he vaguely hopes he’ll be able to find it in the morning. He doesn’t know when he decided he was going to stay and party all night. He thinks he meant to check it out, catch up with Eli, maybe have one drink and then leave after it wore off. Probably that was the plan.

“Do you know where my shirt went?” he asks Eli, suddenly concerned for its safety again.

“Don’t worry, Blainey, if it’s lost you can borrow one in the morning.” Eli’s leaning in close against Blaine and he definitely doesn’t remember Eli losing his shirt, too, but he must have because their chests are brushing against each other. He knows this skin, but it’s weird, too, because they’ve never been this naked with each other before.

“Thanks,” Blaine says, and gives in to the impulse to touch Eli’s chest and see if it feels the same as it used to. Mostly it does, but there are more muscles. He thinks maybe you could do that bouncing a nickel thing on his abs and that definitely wasn’t true in high school. He doesn’t really mean to be touching his nipples but he can’t really think of a reason why he shouldn’t right now, either. There are nipples in front of him; they must be there for him. Besides, Eli doesn’t seem to mind.

“Maybe we should take this somewhere quieter,” Eli says, stilling Blaine’s hands on his chest.

“Quieter?” Blaine says, not understanding.

“You forgot this party is at my place, babe. I have a room with a lock that’s all mine.”

And that sounds like a great idea; he remembers how good Eli always was at making Blaine feel special and he thinks that would be wonderful right now. He’s been so sad lately. So he tugs Eli out of the throng of dancers and lets him lead the way. 

The room is, as promised, quieter. The bed is also very soft and Blaine has to spend a few minutes just touching the comforter because he’s so impressed. Eli takes off Blaine’s shoes for him and Blaine is grateful so he kisses him. They just kiss for a while, because it’s familiar but not and Blaine’s missed kissing. He wonders briefly if Kurt misses him, misses kissing him, but the thought is fleeting because it doesn’t have any place in tonight. Old Blaine doesn’t have a Kurt, only New Blaine does and he’s nowhere in sight tonight.

Eli takes off both of their pants at some point and Blaine helps where he can. Buttons and zippers are so complicated but shoving at clothing until it’s gone is easy enough. Eventually their underwear are both gone too and that’s a revelation because he’s never done this with Eli naked on a bed. They should have, he thinks, because it’s awesome. Why didn’t they ever do that? He tries to ask Eli why he didn’t want to be his boyfriend, why he didn’t ever want to get naked on a bed with him before, but Eli shushes him and kisses him again and lines up their cocks so they’re thrusting right up against one another. There’s some precum slicking against each other but not enough and the drag is almost rough but still pretty hot. Blaine licks his hand and grabs both of their dicks so he can jerk them off together and it’s all pretty fast after that, rushing rushing rushing and then there’s the peak and the freefall into nothingness. He sort of remembers shoving at the soft soft soft blanket until he’s under it but not really.

***

Blaine wakes up hungover and that’s such a familiar feeling that he forgets for a minute that it doesn’t belong anymore. He starts cataloguing his surroundings and puts together pieces and then he’s suddenly sitting up way too fast as it all hits him, and then the fast movement catches up with him and he has to rush to the bathroom to throw up. He really should have known better than that, but then again he should have known better than all of this. When he thinks he can probably stop throwing up as long as he doesn’t think too much, he rinses his mouth out in the sink as best he can and walks back into the bedroom. Eli apparently sleeps like the dead because none of that woke him. Blaine finds his underwear, his pants, checks to make sure his keys and phone and wallet are all accounted for, but he can’t find his shirt. It never made it this far, he remembers in a flash. He closes his eyes and fights down another wave of nausea that he thinks is related more to guilt than alcohol.

He’s fucked up _so badly_ that he’s not even sure he can comprehend it right now. He’s cheated on his boyfriend, his _Kurt_ , the man he loves more than anything in the world. Old Blaine has successfully managed to ruin New Blaine and he thinks maybe he always expected that to happen but he never could have predicted it would happen like this. He would never in a million years have believed he could cheat on Kurt. It’s just not _who he is_ but apparently it’s what happens when he loses his grip on the shell of a personality he’s built up.

He checks his phone, not sure if he’s hoping for a missed call from Kurt or not. There’s a text from Artie asking him to do something later this weekend and one from Kurt that must have come in some time after he was blitzed that says, “Sorry it never slowed down enough for me to call. :( I love you, sleep well!” Blaine rubs at his eyes furiously; he will not allow himself to tear up right now over how his boyfriend had been sending a sappy text while Blaine was hooking up with someone else. He has to find his shirt and then he will figure out what to do next. He shoves his phone back in his pocket.

The living room looks like a raging party happened in it. There are quite a few people passed out on various pieces of furniture and on the floor, cups and cans everywhere and the occasional weird sticky spot where someone spilled something. There are several loose items of clothing but he can’t seem to find his shirt among them. He’s getting increasingly frustrated and almost frantic when Eli wanders out, clutching a piece of clothing. 

“Hey, I seem to remember promising you a shirt,” he says.

He did, Blaine thinks fuzzily, I almost remember that. The shirt is a plain grey v-neck and it’s a little big when he pulls it on, but it’ll have to do.

“Thanks, I- I’m sorry, I’ve really got to go. I have to get home and figure out how to tell my boyfriend I- figure something out.”

Eli winces, “Oh, right, the boyfriend. I forgot about that, I’m sorry man.”

“It’s not your fault,” Blaine says softly, “I’m the one who should have been remembering.”

“Still, I hope it works out.”

Blaine wants to be able to hate him but the fact of it is that Eli’s a hell of a lot nicer now than he ever was back in high school. It’s not really his fault Blaine is so fucked up. So he just says, “Thanks, I really hope so, too,” and when Eli moves in to hug him goodbye, Blaine lets him and tries not to feel even more guilty because the hug is warm and strangely comforting. He shouldn’t let himself feel comforted by the guy he cheated on his boyfriend with. He ducks out rather abruptly as soon as Eli lets go. He has a lot to do today.

***

When Blaine gets home he immediately showers, throws away Eli’s t-shirt, buys a plane ticket to New York, sets an alarm for when he’ll need to be awake to go to the airport later, takes some painkillers and sleeps for 4 hours. He tries to eat before he leaves for the airport but he’s not feeling very hungry. He’s still kind of hungover, which makes dealing with the airport and the plane ride particularly excruciating but at least he’s past the worst of it now. Unfortunately that only covers the physical symptoms. If regretted actions faded as quickly as hangovers, he’d appreciate that right now. He spends the plane ride feeling alternately sorry for himself, sorry for Kurt, and trying to figure out how he’s going to break the news. All he’s sure of is that if he ever wants to be good at being New Blaine again, he has to confess, and if he has to confess, he has to do it in person. He still hasn’t got further in his plan than that.

When he gets off the plane he buys the largest, prettiest bouquet of flowers he can find, spends 20 minutes trying to figure out how to get to Kurt’s apartment on public transportation, then gives up and gets a cab. His parents are probably already going to be annoyed by this abuse of the “emergency credit card” so who cares.

***

Kurt’s so genuinely happy to see him and it breaks his heart. He can’t tell him right away, can’t ruin that. He can’t figure out how he’ll be able to tell him at all, he just knows he has to.

They go out to a bar and that is so very much not where Blaine needs to be today. He drinks his water resolutely.

Maybe he can figure out how to say what he needs to say with music instead of words. Music has always worked better for him in the past. He doesn’t remember until it’s too late, already in the middle of the song, that music has let him down before, too. When he realizes he’s crying and there’s nothing he can do to make himself stop, still too on edge from being hungover and wracked with guilt, he thinks, well maybe I’ve at least outdone myself on the public humiliation front because there are way more witnesses here than there were in that Gap.

He knows Kurt. He knows Kurt’s going to ask what’s wrong, but he hasn’t figured out what to say yet, how to best word this. Probably because there is no good way to tell your boyfriend you cheated on him. When Kurt asks why, what will he say? He’s pretty sure you can’t use a temporary insanity plea on boyfriends. When Kurt asks who it was, because of he’ll want to know, how can he respond? He’s never told him about Eli before and if he explains now it will look like he’s been hiding something even more than what he _has_ been hiding. 

And suddenly his brief reprieve is over and Kurt is there demanding answers and Blaine has to tell him because he’s done enough wrong already, he can’t lie, too. Except he finds that he is (just a shortcut, not really an untruth he tells himself again but even he’s not buying it now) because when Kurt says “Who?” he says it was a nobody, just a hookup and while that’s not a lie, it’s also not the truth. What he really should have remembered is how Kurt doesn’t know what Blaine was like before and how disgusted he would be by things like randomly hooking up with a stranger and how anything, maybe even the truth, would have been a better answer.

Then he’s lashing out, blaming Kurt for leaving him lonely even though he knows it’s so wrong, so stupid, it’s not Kurt’s fault at all. Blaine should have been strong enough to hold onto who is now without Kurt to breathe life to the brushstrokes but he’s _not_ strong enough and he’s so angry that he’s not that he lets it irrationally spill out onto Kurt. Eventually Kurt’s too angry to continue and Blaine’s almost grateful something has stopped him because he didn’t seem able to do it himself and once again he’s letting Kurt help him be better because he can’t do it on his own and what is _wrong_ with him?

Trying to sleep is torture because all he’s wanted for weeks is to be close to Kurt and now that he is, he can’t move those last few inches and touch him because he took a flamethrower to their relationship. They’re over, he thinks; they must be, because there’s no way Kurt will ever be able to forgive him for this. But why isn’t Kurt just telling him they’re through? Why hasn’t he been thrown out of the apartment or at least kicked to the floor with a scrap of blanket? Is it a sign Kurt will eventually move past this or just further proof he’s way too nice for his own good sometimes?

He must fall asleep eventually because when he wakes up Kurt is gone. He’s nowhere in the apartment and then Blaine finds the note that says, “Don’t be there when I get back. I can’t talk to you right now.” He’d hoped for another chance to plead forgiveness and hopefully not fuck it up as badly this time, but evidently that’s not to be.

The flight home is nowhere near as frantic as his flight out, but somehow no less stressful and nauseating even though he’s totally past the hangover how.

***

The flowers seems like the best next step because he suspects calling would just anger Kurt. He knows it’s not enough, nothing could ever make up for what he’s done, but he hopes Kurt takes them as an attempt to cheer him up and not as a pithy and dismissive apology. He used to be able to read Kurt better than this, he thinks, he should know the right thing to say. He’s definitely lost something, the parts of him that were partly made up of Kurt are dead now and there’s not enough left to scrape a whole personality together.

He wanders around in almost a fugue state for a few weeks. Kurt still hasn’t spoken a word to him, which he’s choosing to take positively because it means they’re not definitively broken up. His heart is aching all over again for Kurt, though, because he’d thought missing him was bad before but this really is more alone. The rest of New Directions must have got some version of what happened, too, because they’re all giving him strange looks and Tina’s avoiding him. At least no one else is so loyal to Kurt they feel it necessary to snub him, too, though he’d honestly understand if they were.

***

It’s the middle of the night when Kurt finally calls, but Blaine’s awake. He hasn’t slept much lately and he tries not to think about all the ways he could find to make sleep a little easier. 

“Hey,” he answers softly

“Hi Blaine,” Kurt says after a moment.

Blaine doesn’t want to be too forward, doesn’t want to make Kurt more angry, so he waits. 

“I just... I don’t understand it, Blaine. How could you do that? I thought you loved me.”

“I do,” Blaine insists. He can’t let that pass without addressing it, “I love you so much and I never wanted to hurt you. I’m so sorry I did.”

“But you did, Blaine!” and Kurt sound more angry now, instead of sad and broken like he did before. “You slept with someone else and I don’t understand. How could you do that to me, Blaine?”

“I’m sorry, Kurt, I’m so sorry. I love you so much,” is all Blaine can say.

“Damn it Blaine, I’m sick of hearing you say that.”

Blaine doesn’t say anything else and tries not to let his stuttering breathing get too loud. Is this it, are they over?

After a minute or two of nothing but shared breathing sounds, Kurt sighs. “I didn’t mean that.”

Blaine’s relieved for a moment, that doesn’t sound like a break-up. But if they’re not over, Blaine’s going to have to start offering some better explanations than he’s been able to give so far and that’s not any easier than it’s ever been. 

“I just want to understand, Blaine. I can’t know what to do about this until I understand how the man I- I love could do this to me.”

“I’m not,” and Blaine’s voice hitches no matter how he tries to keep it even, “I’m not the man you love, but I try so hard to be and I thought I was good at it. I try _so_ hard, Kurt, because I love you so much.”

“Blaine... you’re not making any sense. Of course I love you, that’s why this hurts so much!”

“No, that’s not me, Kurt. You don’t understand. I made myself up and it was all faked, but I wanted to be real for you. You made me be real. In Pinocchio, the puppet got to become real because he was loved, because he wanted it enough, but the story never says what happens if it goes away.”

“Blaine, you’re kind of scaring me. I don’t know what to say, Blaine. You’re sounding kind of, umm, crazy.”

“I’m sorry, Kurt, sorry. I’m doing this all wrong, sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, I just... maybe I’m not ready for this conversation after all.”

“No, please, I’m sorry! I want to tell you how sorry.”

“I’ve heard you, Blaine, I know. But I need more than that. I can’t ever trust you again if I don’t understand what happened. I have to know that this will never happen again.”

“I’ll try so much harder, be even better, Kurt, I will, I promise. I didn’t know how hard it would be to do this without you, but now that I know I can do better.”

“You know I want to be here for you, as much as I can, but I’ve got a lot going on here. You wanted me to be happy and successful and in New York, so why are you punishing me for it now?”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry, Kurt. I don’t mean to, I want you to have everything. That was the worst part, I knew you didn’t want to hurt me, could never hurt me. It’s my own fault for not being able to deal with it.”

“No, I, Blaine, it’s okay to miss me, okay? I miss you, too, every minute of every day. You just can’t... can’t use that as a reason to lash out and hurt me, Blaine.”

Blaine gasps, is that what Kurt thinks? “No, not to hurt you, it was never to hurt you. I was just stupid and I forgot... I was trying to forget how much I needed you but I didn’t mean to forget everything, but I did forget. It was just so easy to have another drink so I didn’t hurt for a while and I... I know how stupid I am when I drink, shouldn’t have ever been there, but I wanted to see if he still looked like he did at the dance.”

“I...” Kurt seems to struggle with making sense of what Blaine’s saying, finally puts a few pieces together, “I thought you said it was nobody, a hookup? It was... the boy you went to the Sadie Hawkins dance with?”

“It _was_ a hookup, it always was with Eli. He wasn’t really at the dance with me, we were just both there. He never would have gone with me; he only wanted to be with me when we were drunk. It was our fault, what were we even thinking hooking up in a school bathroom, no wonder they got so mad.”

“No, Blaine, no, of course it wasn’t your fault. Stupid homophobes are the ones at fault, don’t ever blame yourself or... or Eli.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry, Kurt. You don’t want to hear about this; you want to... to know why I was with Eli.”

“Yes,” Kurt says softly, “That is what I want to know,” but he sounds like maybe he isn’t sure he really wants to know anymore.

“I didn’t plan to cheat on you,” Blaine starts with, because he wants to make sure that’s out there first, “I was lonely and Eli showed up out of nowhere on facebook and he was throwing a party and I... at first I wasn’t going to go, but I wanted to be having fun instead of sitting around feeling sorry for myself. I remembered how much fun it used to be to get drunk and party and forget everything that was bothering me so I was just going to stop by and catch up, maybe have a drink. Then when I got there it was so familiar, it was so easy to have another drink, and I was having fun and dancing and it was just like old times. I forgot that I’m not like that anymore, but I won’t again. There won’t be any more parties, ever. I shouldn’t have kissed him and I shouldn’t have touched him and I shouldn’t have let him touch me and I shouldn’t have slept in his bed and let him hug me goodbye. I shouldn’t... I knew how much I fucked up, then, but I still let him hug me when I left, I’m so sorry.” 

He almost feels more guilty about that than the hookup, as weird as it is, because getting off hadn’t meant anything just like it never had, but being naked, sleeping together, that hug... those were things he’d done with Kurt and it felt wrong that he’d sullied them now by doing them with someone else. Nothing he’d ever done with Kurt had ever felt as tawdry and dirty as a drunken hand job so there was nothing to connect to there, just a general regret like he always had to go with his hangover.

There’s a long wait before Kurt finds something to say. “I never knew you had that kind of... history. I thought I was... you told me I was the first.”

“I didn’t tell you because I wanted to forget and because I didn’t want you to know and be disgusted by me and I... I didn’t want to be that guy anymore so I thought I could erase it all. It wasn’t a lie, though, you were the first person who counted, my first boyfriend, the first one to hold my hand and look at me and want to be with me and... maybe you weren’t the first boy I ever touched but it was easy to pretend hand jobs in dark corners didn’t count when I could barely remember most of them. I needed you to be my first so I could have something to remember with joy instead of regret. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Kurt, I’m sorry.”

“I wish you’d told me this sooner,” Kurt says, “When I could have held you and told you it would be okay, that it didn’t matter and I... right now I can’t tell you that. It does matter. If I’d known, we could have talked about how this might affect us, what you should do if something made you feel like that again, instead of going out and getting trashed and cheating on me.”

“I’m so sorry, Kurt, I thought I was better, you made me be better.”

“Oh Blaine,” and Kurt sounds the saddest he has all night, “You can’t be better for _me_ , you have to be better for yourself.”

“I tried that, Kurt, I tried, but it never felt real until you. You made me feel something, feel like I was really the person I acted like.”

Kurt’s crying, Blaine can hear it through the phone and it makes him cry, too, because he doesn’t want to hurt Kurt anymore. They cry together on the phone for a long time. Blaine isn’t sure how long, he thinks maybe it’s closer to morning than night now.

“Blaine,” Kurt finally says, voice catching a little.

“Kurt,” Blaine says, because he can’t say anything else.

“Blaine, I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“If you want this to work-”

“I do, more than anything.”

“If you want this to work, for us to make it through this, then you have to promise me you’ll find someone to talk to about this, a professional or a counselor or someone to help you deal with this because I want to be there for you and help you but I can’t... I can’t be the only thing in your life, Blaine, it’s too much and it’s not good for either of us.”

“I’m sorry, Kurt, I’m sorry I put all this on you and cheated on you and that I didn’t tell you.”

“Shh, I know, will you promise me? You’ll talk to someone?”

“I promise, I will,” Blaine says, “Promise.”

“Thank you,” Kurt says, “Now we should both get some sleep while we still can, okay?”

“Okay, I love you,” Blaine says and holds his breath.

“I love you, too,” Kurt says, “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Blaine answers, but he waits for the call to end from the other end before he can let go of the phone. Maybe he can get a little sleep now. 

***

Lunch period has been kind of awkward lately as some of his friends are mad at him on Kurt’s behalf and the rest just seem to not know what to say that won’t upset him more, so he skips it to go to Ms. Pillsbury’s office.

“Blaine! It’s so lovely to see you, have a seat.”

She probably knows some of what happened because glee club gossip doesn’t stay contained for long, but she acts like she has no idea what this could be about and he kind of appreciates it.

“Kurt and I are having some... problems in our relationship,” he says delicately, “And they relate back to some, umm, personal issues I have. Kurt suggested that perhaps it would be good for us if I, umm, talked to someone... professional.”

“Do you feel comfortable telling me a little more about what kind of personal issues these might be? I can recommend someone, but it might be a better fit if I get some more information.”

“I used to party a lot when I was unhappy, but I made a choice not to use that as an outlet anymore and have been fairly happy since then, but now that Kurt is gone I’ve had a bit of a... relapse, which lead me to do something very regrettable.”

She meets his eyes, doesn’t look judgmental or even surprised. He was a little worried she’d be angry because he knows she’s fond of Kurt, but maybe she likes him too. 

“I’m assuming this partying involved alcohol?”

“Yes.”

“Other impairing substances?”

He nods and can’t look her in the eye.

“Sexual activity?”

“Umm, pretty much.” Splitting hairs on what constitutes sex with Ms. Pillsbury is not something he’s up for.

“Thank you for sharing that, Blaine, it will make it easier to find the right person for you.”

He nods and looks at his feet.

“I’ll have to make some calls but I promise I’ll have a name for you by the end of the day, okay?”

He nods again, then looks up and sees that’s she’s smiling at him. “Thanks,” he manages before he awkwardly trudges off to catch the end of the lunch period.

***

Blaine pokes his head back into Ms. Pillsbury’s office on his way to glee later and she waves him in. She hands him a business card with a woman’s name, apparently this Lindsey Baxter is a counselor. There’s a date and time scribbled on the back.

“I talked to her to make sure she’s likely to be a good fit, but I didn’t tell her any specifics,” Ms. Pillsbury says, “I want to make this a good experience for you and I think you’ll get along. I checked your activities schedule and set the first appointment for the end of the week. I know how scary the first step can be and trust me, it’s better not to put it off. If you don’t like her, though, or don’t feel comfortable talking to her for any reason, don’t be afraid to come back and tell me so I can find someone else. The important thing is that you’re doing something to help yourself here, Blaine, okay?”

He’s a little overwhelmed, but he says, “Okay,” and pockets the card.

“Good luck, Blaine, and I’ll still be here, too, if you want to talk to me about anything. Don’t forget that.”

He smiles at her and thanks her and heads to practice. He’s nervous, yeah, but feeling a tiny bit better, too.

***

He texts Kurt that evening and says, “I have an appointment with a counselor on Thursday.” 

The reply comes in before he goes to sleep, and it says, “Good luck. I love you.” 

The warm feeling he gets from that lasts until Thursday morning. He hasn’t talked to Kurt again since then because he sort of feels like he needs to prove himself by going through with his promise before he has the right to try, and Kurt hasn’t initiated anything. He tries to remind himself that Kurt cares and is probably thinking of him often.

He spends most of Thursday freaking out. Brittany asks him if he’s upset because he lost his unicorn, which he thinks is Brittany-speak for Kurt so he says yes. She offers to help him look but he politely declines. It does help distract him a little, though. Tina gives him worried looks, which is a definite improvement over the occasional glare he’s been getting up to now. Sam asks if he’s okay, if there’s anything Vice-Presidential he can do to help, which gets him a laugh. Blaine’s not sure the last time he laughed.

“Seriously though, dude, what’s bringing you down?” 

“I’m not really up for talking about it,” Blaine says, “Maybe afterward.”

“Well let me know, then,” Sam says, “I’ve been worried about you.” 

***

Blaine takes comfort thinking that some people do care about him, but it doesn’t feel like enough faced with the bland, unassuming outer office later that day. His dread has returned and it’s kind of overwhelming.

There’s a waiting area with some tables and chairs and magazines but no receptionist at the desk; he’s 10 minutes early so he hits down to wait. The office door opens and a woman leaves with three minutes still to go. Finally it’s four o’clock on the dot and a pleasantly mom-ish blonde woman in probably her thirties comes to the doorway and calls out, “Blaine?” He braces himself and follows her into her office.

It’s a lot more comfortable and a lot easier than he’d expected it to be, it turns out. There’s no lying down on a fainting couch and she doesn’t really ask him about his mother except in a general way. Mostly they spend an hour getting to know each other and it’s almost as much her talking as him. He talks about McKinley and glee club and being class president and his boyfriend and she tells him to call her Lindsey and talks about why she became a counselor and her kids (who are adorable if the pictures on the desk are anything to go by) and how this process works. She asks if this is a good time for him (it is) and if he wants to meet more than once a week (preferably not) and if he has any questions (he can’t think of any). And then she asks the question he’d expected first.

“So, Blaine, why are you here?”

“My boyfriend suggested it.”

“Why do you think he did that?”

“Probably because I cheated on him?” He’s still having trouble with that sentence though he knew he’d probably have to say it today. It’s so weird to try to make that mental adjustment, to think of himself as a cheater; it makes him feel more disconnected from the world than usual.

“For most people, when a partner cheats on them that’s a reason to break up, not send them to therapy. Is he just so awesome he figured you’d have to be unbalanced to cheat?”

“Well he is pretty amazing,” Blaine says, and appreciates that she’d broken the tension a little. Then he thinks about what she said. “But yeah, maybe it wasn’t strictly because of what happened. I guess he was worried about me, that I wasn’t okay, wasn’t acting like myself.”

“Why would he have a reason to worry about you?”

“I... I’m not taking being apart very well.”

“Clearly,” she says, but it’s a gentle tease, like she’s already forgiven him and this is something they can joke about now, “So why did you cheat on him then?”

That is the million dollar question, there, isn’t it? It’s easier to think about an honest answer to that question here, with someone who’s never met Kurt and isn’t going to get mad at him. “I was lonely and I... I guess I did what I was used to doing when I was lonely.” He hasn’t quite conceptualized it that way to himself yet, as part of a pattern.

“Is it something you’re likely to do again?”

“God no, I hope not,” he says immediately, horrified at the thought.

“So you’re interested in changing your pattern of behavior?”

“Yes, absolutely,” he says.

“Well then we definitely have something to work with, here, Blaine. You’re here to meet a goal and everything works better when you have something to reach for.”

It makes him feel a little better, like maybe there’s hope for him, like maybe Kurt will have a reason to trust him again, and he’s finally happy he’s doing this, not just happy he’s doing as Kurt wanted.

“Alright then, your homework for this week is to pay attention when you feel lonely again. You don’t have to keep a diary or journal or anything unless you want to, though it can help a lot, but I want you to pay attention to it when it happens so you can tell me about it next time.”

They didn’t really talk about much today, but he does feel a tiny bit lighter when he leaves.

***

Blaine’s not sure how he’ll feel if he calls Kurt and he doesn’t answer, so he sends a text that says, “First appointment was today, so far, so good. I love you.” Hopefully Kurt will reply or call or something. The limited Kurt he’d had before his mistake had been disappointing but even that was better than all this nothing. He’s so very ready to be boyfriends who have fun with each other again instead of ones who are dealing with messy emotional issues.

High on the joys of successful communication and feeling more hopeful than he has in weeks, he calls Sam and asks him to come over and play video games.

Sam’s a cool guy so he lets them shoot zombies in the face for more than an hour before he asks, “So are you ready to talk to me yet or do I have to beat your scores all night?”

“I could totally beat you next time,” Blaine protests automatically though they both know he’s actually kind of terrible. Sam isn’t even that good, but Blaine is plain bad. 

Sam just waits.

“Okay, so, the thing is, I went to my first therapy session today.”

“Heavy,” Sam says, “How did it go?”

“Good, I think?” Blaine says. “I’m pretty sure it’s going to help. I’m still worried, though, I guess, that it won’t be enough, that I’ve messed up with Kurt forever and it’ll never be the same.”

“Blaine, man, seriously, I’m gonna put this in small words for you. Kurt loves you a stupid lot. If you’re really working on this, and it sure looks like you are, you’re going to be okay.”

“You really think so?” Blaine wants it to be true, but he’s so used to lying to himself that he needs to hear it from someone else to really think it might be right.

“I know so; you’re going to be just fine.”

Blaine smiles and turns the video game back on.

***

The call he’s been hoping for finally comes in just before midnight and he answers immediately. “Hi!” He tries to cover up just how eager he is to hear from Kurt but he’s pretty sure he does a terrible job of it.

Kurt says, “Hi Blaine,” and his voice is warm in a way that makes Blaine feel immediately a little bit better. They really might manage to put themselves back together. 

“I love you,” he can’t help but say.

Kurt laughs a little. “I love you, too. So, how was therapy?”

“Weird,” Blaine starts with, because it’s true. “Good, though, I think... I think it’s going to be very good. I’ve never really had anyone I could just... talk to like that before.”

“You know you could have talked to me? Before this all happened?”

“I should have,” Blaine says, “But I don’t think I did. I liked that you thought I had all the answers and I didn’t want to ruin how you saw me. After I managed to totally mess that up anyway, talking about stupid things I’ve done seems a lot less scary.”

“I think I’m glad to hear that. I do still want you to talk to me, though. Wanting you to talk to somebody else wasn’t because I don’t want to be part of this, you get that, right?”

“I’m starting to, I think,” Blaine says, thinking about how he’d felt a little lighter after talking to Lindsey, a little lighter after mentioning it to Sam, “I never meant to put everything on you, I just didn’t know I couldn’t handle it on my own until you were there. I liked letting you be the reason I was happy.”

“I like being the reason you’re happy,” Kurt says, “More than anything. I just need to be able to trust that if I can’t be there for you sometimes, you find a safe way to deal with it instead of hurting us both.”

“Well, that’s what I’ll be working on,” Blaine says, “Fixing that,” and he tells Kurt about his session, how they’re planning what to work on first.

***

It gets easier after that. Blaine goes to therapy on Thursdays and talks and Lindsey never judges him even when he thinks she should because he judges himself. She just makes him think and examine his own motivations and deal with them. She also reminds him he’s not alone. He doesn’t just have Kurt, he has friends he can talk to and teachers he trusts and it’s kind of funny because he had to be told that. He really didn’t realize. They talk about why he feels so lonely sometimes and healthier ways he can deal with. He does end up talking about his parents, eventually, and how very, very let down he feels by them, how angry he is about how they ignored his out-of-control behavior and never tried to deal with what happened at the Sadie Hawkins dance. They talk about Eli, and that dance, and about why he has such a hard time putting down a drink once he’s started, and how he’s going to deal with situations where he’s tempted to go back to old patterns, and why he’s so desperate for people to like him. 

Sometimes the sessions make him feel pretty shitty, honestly, because he’s ashamed of some of the things he’s done, and he wants to lose himself in something so he’ll forget about it. He doesn’t, though. He hangs out with Sam or his other friends and lets them distract him and occasionally tells Sam why he’s so bummed out. And he always talks to Kurt on therapy days. They’re talking other times now, too, though not really back to normal, but Kurt makes a point to always find a little time on Thursdays even if it’s late at night. Blaine usually tells him what they’d talked about in the session and sometimes dissects it a little more, but mostly he just shares and loves that Kurt accepts it even when Blaine is ashamed.

Blaine’s been working on the disconnection he feels between his old life and his current one because Lindsey says it’s not healthy to avoid his past by pretending it happened to someone else, says that’s a big part of why he’d ended up in a situation to lose his boyfriend’s trust. He never wants to let that happen again, so he tries to integrate it all. He’s still the same person as that lonely kid who tried as hard as he could to let drugs and alcohol and being intimate with strangers make him feel alive. He has better ways to feel alive now, music and friends and Kurt, and thinking about it that way, as fulfilling that same need, sometimes makes it easier to remember that his old ways of coping aren’t needed, will only make him feel worse. He used to think that Kurt loves New Blaine and would have hated Old Blaine, but it’s getting easier to remember that Kurt just loves Blaine, all of him.

***

Blaine’s parents spend Thanksgiving at some formal something with people from his dad’s job; when they tell him, he says he has other plans. It isn’t strictly true, but as soon as he tells Kurt about it, he finds himself invited to Kurt’s family’s house for Thanksgiving even though Kurt can’t get away from work long enough to warrant coming home. It’s a bit weird, though Finn being there cuts the awkwardness a little. It feels warm and homey in a way his actual home has never been. Carol fusses over everyone, and he watches a football game with Finn and Burt, and they set a place at the table for Kurt with a laptop and Skype throughout dinner. It’s kind of amazing and though he wishes Kurt could have been there in person, it’s the next best thing. 

When it’s finally time to go home, he says, “Thanks for having me.”

Carol says, “You’re welcome anytime,” and hugs him.

Burt claps him on the shoulder and gruffly says, “We really mean that, Blaine, okay? Anytime.”

***

Blaine has meetings with Ms. Pillsbury on a semi-regular basis. Sometimes he shares a little bit about how his therapy is going, and sometimes they talk about Kurt, but mostly they talk about glee club and school and college applications. He feels like he must have applied to every single school in the entirety of New England by the time classes let out in December, but it’s worth it. He will be in New York next year and nothing is going to change that. His parents ask him out of the blue what schools he’s applying to one day and he lists a few. 

His dad makes approving noises and nods because he makes a point of mentioning the more respectable ones instead of the many liberal arts colleges he’s also applying to. 

His mom says, “All in New York? You’re not interested in looking anywhere else?”

“No,” Blaine says simply, “That’s where I want to be.”

They don’t argue about it but they also don’t mention it again.

***

Kurt manages to get an entire week off for Christmas, though he has to be back before the new year. Burt wants to be the one to pick Kurt up from the airport but Blaine successfully lobbies to get the right for himself. When he finally sees Kurt wheeling his little carry-on past security and out into the airport proper he’s blown away. No one should look that hot coming off a crowded plane, Blaine thinks, but Kurt is breathtaking. He’s had to survive on nothing more than video and pictures for too long; the sight of his boyfriend with his own eyes threatens to make him tear up. Instead he throws himself at Kurt, burying his face in Kurt’s neck in case a tear escapes, holding him tightly until the bustle of people shoving past reminds him they should probably move out of other people’s way. 

“I missed you so much. I love you,” Blaine says and pulls back enough to be able to see Kurt’s face.

“Me, too,” Kurt says and he grins and pulls Blaine into a kiss.

Eventually they remember they’re still in the way and make their way, grinning stupidly and holding hands, to Blaine’s car.

They have to kiss a while longer before Blaine feels ready to actually drive. They’re pulling onto the highway and Kurt says, “We should go to your place.”

Blaine glances at him, confused. “I thought I was supposed to take you home?”

“Yeah,” Kurt says, and Blaine can practically hear his wicked grin, “But I didn’t tell Dad when my plane was landing. We’ve got all afternoon.”

Oh. Suddenly Blaine sees where he’s going with this. He does not break every speed limit on the way home, but it’s a difficult endeavor.

***

“Missed you, missed you so much,” Blaine can’t seem to stop himself from saying every few minutes, whenever his mouth is available. He thinks perhaps finally getting to touch Kurt again might have short-circuited his brain.

Kurt licks him again and bites down on his shoulder and goes for his zipper.

“Love you, love you, love you,” he chants when Kurt teases him with a hand down his pants but is, for some crazy reason, not getting them naked fast enough. 

“Please, fuck me, Kurt, please,” he whimpers when Kurt’s mouth is on his dick, but Kurt doesn’t stop sucking until Blaine comes, crying out Kurt’s name again.

He’s still sensitive from coming but getting hard again when Kurt opens him up and is finally, finally inside him.

“Missed this, missed you, need you,” Kurt whispers as he fucks him, slow and hard and amazing and everything Blaine’s wanted for months.

Blaine’s beyond words so he just whines and pushes back, urging Kurt to fuck him harder and faster and more, until he’s over the edge again, this time with Kurt following close behind.

Blaine thinks maybe the stars he saw when he came blinded him a little because he’s kind of dazed for a few minutes. Kurt gets rid of the condom but immediately plasters himself back against Blaine, holding him close.

“Amazing,” Kurt says quietly.

“Mmmm,” Blaine responds, still kind of out of it, “You are.”

“Smartass,” Kurt says, and laughs, “I missed you so much.”

“Me, too,” Blaine says.

They hold each other close and just relish the ability to touch for a long time, barely avoiding falling asleep. Eventually they make their way to the shower to clean up and by the time they make it out after round two they really have to get going.

***

Blaine takes Kurt home and has dinner with the Hummels wherein he tries not to blush or spend the entire time gazing adoringly at Kurt while talks about New York. He has limited success, but Kurt isn’t much better so at least he’s not embarrassed alone. 

***

Kurt and Blaine spend just about every waking moment together while Kurt is there but that doesn’t make it any easier to let Kurt go at the airport. He doesn’t cry until after Kurt’s away on the other side of security, at least. He sends Kurt a text before he drives home, “Miss you already.”

“New York is empty without you,” Kurt texts later, and it helps a little.

***

New Year’s Eve sucks. Blaine’s parents have a party, so the house is full of people who are too carefully-dressed and stuck-up to stand. Blaine toasts to the new year with champagne at midnight with a bunch of people he doesn’t care about. He wants to call Kurt and wish him a happy new year but fashion at New Year’s Eve parties is apparently a very big deal and he’s going to be busy all night. 

Blaine gets another glass of champagne and dances with someone’s teenage daughter who giggles too much. When he notices she’s getting kind of handsy, he carefully extricates himself. He sips at his champagne and decides maybe this is enough of a public appearance for the evening. He liberates a bottle of wine to take with him when he locks himself in his room.

After a glass or two, he dials Kurt and tells his voicemail how much he misses him. 

He pours another glass and thinks about the fact that there’s probably still a party going on downstairs, if it had ever properly deserved to be called that. He could be dancing. He could... he calls Sam.

“What’s up?” Sam says. He sounds tired, like maybe Blaine woke him up or he was about to fall asleep.

“I miss Kurt,” Blaine says. “I wish he was here.”

“Yeah? That sucks. Why don’t you tell me what you’re going to do next year when you’re in New York celebrating with him? Except not the naked parts, because I don’t need to hear that.”

Blaine laughs and is glad he called. He tells Blaine all about what his first New Year’s Eve in New York is going to be like because of course he has it all planned out already, and listens to Sam talking about new year celebrations with his family and how his younger siblings stayed awake till midnight successfully for the first time, and when his glass is empty he doesn’t bother filling it again, and at some point he falls asleep.

***

Blaine has a text from Kurt waiting when he wakes up. It says, “I hope you’re okay. Call me when you wake up. I love you.”

He takes a few minutes to find some painkillers and a giant glass of water before he calls.

“Hey,” Kurt answers, “I got your voicemail. Are you okay?”

He remembers calling but he’s pretty fuzzy on what he might have actually said. “I’m okay, I think,” he says. The painkillers are starting to work on the headache so it’s mostly true. “I just had more wine than I should have.”

“Oh, okay,” Kurt says, “It’s just, you sounded really upset. I was worried about you.”

“No, I’m fine now, promise. After I couldn’t talk to you, I called Sam and he cheered me up a little.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I love you, and I get so sad knowing that you’re hurting and there’s nothing I can do about.”

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

“Hey, don’t ever apologize for loving me,” Kurt protests.

Blaine laughs. “Okay, I take it back, definitely not sorry. Are you busy today? Time for a skype date?” He tries not to sound too hopeful but he really, really wants to spend time with his boyfriend in any way he can right now.

“You’re in luck because the whole town is sleeping off last night, skype it is.”

Blaine smiles as he hangs up, already digging out his laptop.

***

In some ways being apart from Kurt is harder after getting to spend so much time with him at Christmas. He went on a happiness bender but now he has to deal with withdrawal. It’s not quite as bad as it was when Kurt first left for New York both because of familiarity and because he can talk to Kurt or Lindsey or Sam or Tina or Brittany or even Burt about it, but it still sucks. He throws himself into schoolwork and glee club and scholarship applications and presidential duties and spending time with his friends. That works pretty well during the week but the weekends just seem to stretch before him with too much unstructured time to fill. He wants to be distracted, to forget how much he misses Kurt, but nothing seems to work. He’s taking it one day at a time, trying not to focus on how long a stretch of time he has to wait until he can be with Kurt again. Instead he just concentrates on how he is absolutely going to kick Sam’s ass at Call of Duty this weekend. He hasn’t tried to use alcohol to forget since New Year’s so he figures he’s at least doing sort of okay.

It helps that Kurt and Blaine have been back on a regular long-distance dating schedule of skype and phone calls since Christmas, when they can manage it around Kurt’s schedule at least, and there’s texting and emails to last in between. Kurt tries harder not to miss dates and let Blaine know when he’ll be unavailable. Therapy is helping Blaine deal with his own issues and a busy schedule of friends and activities is helping him deal with his loneliness, but there’s one thing that none of that is helping with at all. He really misses getting to touch his boyfriend. Sometimes he feels like his skin actually _itches_ with the need to hold Kurt in his arms and kiss him. 

He’s brought it up with Lindsey and they’ve talked about some ways that long-distance couples manage intimacy but he can’t quite figure out how to talk to Kurt about it. Talking about sex got a little easier for them after they started having it, but it’s always been clear Kurt would rather kiss his boyfriend than discuss anything related to sex. They spend a lot of their conversations devolved into talking about how much they love each other and miss each other but it’s generally sappy and romantic, not sexy. Any time Blaine tries to hint in that direction it seems like Kurt redirects, but Blaine’s not sure if it’s because Kurt doesn’t want to do anything like that or because he’s just not getting it. He’s beginning to consider the idea of having a drink for courage just so he can be brave enough to bring it up flat out. 

Blaine makes up his mind he’s going to go for it the last weekend in January. He has a bottle of wine ready in case he tries to chicken out but he doesn’t plan to use it. He’s doing pretty well, he thinks, ready for this. He’s going to ask Kurt, face to webcam, to have sex with him via skype, or possibly phone sex if looking each other in the eye is just too much for Kurt to handle. He’s totally ready, prepared, and then Kurt texts to tell him they’ll have to push their date back an hour because of a problem at work. It’s a Friday. He thinks about the bottle of wine. He thinks about calling somebody to tell him it’s a stupid idea... but then he thinks about explaining why he needs to be talked down. He opens the bottle and rationalizes that he’ll stop when Kurt’s skype call comes in.

The ringing noise from his computer startles him and Blaine slops the dregs of his glass down his chin, but he shrugs and sets it aside so he can hit the answer button. 

“Kurt, baby, you look so sexy!” he says. Kurt doesn’t wear a lot of button-downs because he thinks they’re boring but he wears them really well when he does.

“Umm, thanks,” Kurt says, obviously startled at Blaine’s exuberance, “You seem a little... off. Something wrong?”

Blaine kind of just wants to stare at his gorgeous boyfriend’s face all night so he forgets to answer for a minute, but then he remembers his agenda. “Liquid courage!” he says excitedly.

“Liquid... courage...” Kurt repeats slowly, as if the words don’t make sense to him.

Blaine drags the bottle over to shake it in front of the camera. It’s not empty but he’s not sure when it got so low. “I wanted to tell you something, but I didn’t want to get too scared to say it.”

“Yeah, I kinda followed that much. Why would you be scared? You’re not breaking up with me, are you?” His eyes narrow but he mostly just looks confused, a little annoyed maybe, not really worried.

“Nonononono, of course not,” Blaine says, “I don’t want to break up with you, _ever_! I want to have sex with you!”

“You might have forgotten this,” Kurt says carefully, “But we’ve actually done that before. I distinctly remember it.”

Blaine has to laugh at his boyfriend’s totally serious answer. “No, I know that, but like this! I want to have sex with you on the computer. Or maybe the phone, I’m not picky.” He pouts into the camera as hard as he can. “I just want to touch you but I can’t touch you so I want to pretend. I miss you, Kurt.”

Kurt looks a little shocked and is speechless for a minute while Blaine continues to pout at the computer screen.

“Blaine, sweetie, you have got to stop making that ridiculous face if you want me to take you seriously.”

Blaine pouts harder. “But don’t you want to have sex with me?” His pout slips into something a little more honestly sad.

“Of course I do,” Kurt reassures, “Always. I think about it, umm, a lot, but I’m not sure this is the right answer exactly.”

“You think about me? When you jerk off?” Blaine says eagerly. “Because I think about you all the time when I’m jerking off. I think about what you would do, how you would touch me if you were here.” Kurt’s blushing hard enough that Blaine can tell even though he’s a little off-color from the webcam lighting. “I want you to fuck me, Kurt; it’s just not the same when I use my fingers. They don’t feel like you.”

“Okay,” Kurt says, and he sounds breathless. Turned on, maybe. “We can definitely, umm, consider the options. But we can’t tonight, Rachel will be home soon. And I... need to take a shower before she gets home.”

“Because of me?” Blaine asks, hopeful, “Are you going to jerk off in the shower and think about me? Because I’m absolutely going to go jerk off and think about you when you go away.”

“If you must know, yes,” Kurt says, and he looks embarrassed but he’s turned on and that’s the hottest thing Blaine’s ever seen on his computer, bar none.

“Good,” Blaine says and grins happily.

“I’m going to go now,” Kurt says.

“Wait,” Blaine says before he can end the call, “Will you take off your shirt for me?”

Kurt looks hesitant.

“Please? You have to take it off to get in the shower anyway, right? It’s not like I haven’t seen it and touched it and licked it before.” He does his best to sound enticing.

“Okay,” Kurt agrees, but then adds a firm, “But that’s all you’re getting.”

Kurt stands up and for a perfect moment before he backs up so that his full body is in the frame, his crotch is perfectly framed in the camera and his jeans are so tight Blaine can easily see that he’s hard. Then Kurt takes a couple of steps back and starts undoing buttons. He works quickly like he wants to just get through it and Blaine’s eager enough for skin not to protest. The overshirt slides off his shoulders and then he quickly pulls the undershirt over his head and lets it drop to the floor. He stands there for a minute, awkwardly shifting in place while Blaine admires the beautiful perfect skin he would really like to be putting his mouth on right now. One of his hands slides down automatically to adjust his erection and lingers there, touching himself just a little through his pants.

“Okay,” Kurt says, “That’s enough.” He leans in so he can reach the computer to end the call.

Blaine makes a protesting noise, sad at the loss of his perfect view.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Kurt says firmly.

“Okay,” Blaine says and pouts at him some more. “But think about me, okay?”

“Every time,” Kurt says with one last blush and abruptly ends the call. 

Blaine smiles and stumbles his way over to the bed. With the image of half-naked Kurt fresh in his mind and the thought of what his boyfriend is doing right this very moment, it feels like he’s barely got his pants down and his hand on his dick before he’s coming. 

***

Blaine wakes up only a little disoriented the next day. His head’s a little woolly, but he wasn’t drunk enough for a proper hangover. He did fall asleep without cleaning himself up, though, which is a little gross now. He cleans up and showers and worries about what Kurt thinks of him now. In retrospect, though effective, the drinking had probably not been the best plan. He hopes he hasn’t made Kurt _too_ uncomfortable; it’s hard to be sure because he’s not the best at judging that kind of thing when he’s drinking. He knows that, but it must have slipped his mind when he was opening the bottle last night. The image of Kurt’s naked chest suddenly pops into his head with technicolor imagery; maybe Kurt’s not totally against the idea.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he texts to Kurt, to check if he’s awake.

His phone rings a minute later and he grins at Kurt’s picture and quickly answers.

“Hey.”

“Hi love,” Kurt says, “Did you sleep well?”

“Very well, thanks to you,” Blaine teases.

“Blaine!” Kurt protests, but he’s laughing, too.

“I hope you slept well, too?”

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Kurt says, “I was just worried about the state of your possible hangover this morning.”

“I’m okay, no hangover to speak of. Normally this would be the point in the conversation where I apologize for anything inappropriate I might have said or done last night but honestly, I’m kind of hoping the topic of conversation is still on the table.”

“It’s... up for discussion?”

“Are you sure?” Blaine teases, “You don’t sound sure.”

“Okay, it’s definitely on the table,” Kurt says, “Not video, definitely not video yet, but, umm, phone would be okay I think.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Kurt admits, “When you were talking to me, telling me... how you missed me, it was, well, it was really kind of unbelievably hot.”

“Are you home alone?” Blaine asks, hopeful.

“Blaine! It’s the middle of the day!”

“I had just got out of the shower when you called,” Blaine ramps up, “Haven’t had time to get dressed yet.”

“I... I am alone,” Kurt says quietly.

“You should get back in bed,” Blaine says in his best sultry voice.

Kurt whimpers. 

“Kurt, take off your clothes. I want to picture you lying on your bed naked like I am right now.”

Kurt squeaks, but the rustling sounds that follow sound promising.

“Are you naked?” Blaine checks in when all is quiet again.

“Yes,” Kurt admits finally, “I feel a little ridiculous; it’s kind of chilly in here.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up,” Blaine promises, “I’m already warmer from thinking about you. I can’t keep from touching myself, thinking about you laid out on that big bed.”

“Yeah, it’s - it definitely does seem to be getting warmer in here.”

Blaine pictures him blushing, all the way down to his chest, because Kurt does that sometimes and it’s so hot. “Are you touching yourself yet?”

“No, not, umm, just my chest,” Kurt says hesitantly, like he’s not sure if he’s doing this right.

“Is that what you usually do when you’re by yourself?” Blaine asks, and he’s honestly desperate to know because the subject of masturbation has always been taboo for them and he’s never watched him like that and now he really, really wants to know all the ways Kurt touches himself.

“Kurt?” he says after a too-long hesitation, “Do you not want to do this?”

“No,” Kurt says, gratifyingly fast, “I want this, I just, I don’t know what to say. Everything you say sounds so hot and I can’t help but think anything I say will sound stupid.” 

“Oh Kurt, you know I have no idea what I’m doing either, right? It’s just that for me, telling you I wanted it was the hardest part. From here it’s all telling you how I want to touch you, or how I want you to touch me, or how I touch myself thinking about you. I spend so much time thinking about being in bed with you sometimes it’s harder _not_ telling you I want to kiss your neck and run my fingers through your hair and mess it up and touch your cock so softly that you start thrusting your hips up off the bed just to get me to touch you harder.”

“God, Blaine,” Kurt lets out in a huff of breath.

“Just tell me, Kurt, anything you want. What gets you off?”

“I... I think about those things too, when I, umm, when I touch myself. I think about touching you, and I think about you touching me. Most of the time, I think about what it feels like when I’m... inside you.”

Blaine groans and jerks himself harder, but slower, too, because he’d hate for this to be over. “That’s my favorite thing to remember, too. I love when you fuck me.”

“I know,” Kurt says, “You told me last night... about how you would think about me and use, umm, your fingers. I had to touch myself when you said that. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“Oh yeah? Good, I love that I turn you on like that. Maybe next time we’re together I should let you watch me fuck myself on my fingers, make sure you’re getting the visual right.” He can’t keep himself from speeding up now, this is so hot.

“Oh fuck, Blaine, I don’t know if I would survive something that sexy. I feel like I’m going to explode right now. I had to start touching myself, couldn’t wait anymore. When I’m thinking about you, remembering being inside you, I have to get myself slick and hold extra tight so it feels almost real. You’re always so tight, squeezing so hard I think it should hurt but it just feels good.”

“Oh, fuck, Kurt, please don’t stop,” Blaine pants out and talking is getting difficult because he can’t breathe and he can’t use his brain, and why exactly had he been worried about this again?

“Blaine, I don’t know, I’m so close already!” Kurt’s voice is lost to a moan that Blaine recognizes, the one that means he can’t hold back anymore and he’s about to come. “I wish I were there, fucking you, shoving inside you-”

“Yes, yes!”

“So hard, I would fuck you through the mattress, so you could hardly even move, just trying to push back harder but I’d take care of you, such good care of you, Blaine!” 

Kurt’s words cut off as he so clearly comes and he always sounds a little startled by it, like he didn’t expect that to happen and it’s so fucking hot to hear and he can picture Kurt with come dripping over his fingers and on his stomach and he jerks himself as fast as he can until finally, desperately, he’s moaning and coming, too.

A minute or an eon later, Kurt says, “Blaine?” softly, hesitantly, but he’s still kind of out of breath and jeez, Blaine has to stop thinking before he ends up needing another round.

“Kurt,” he answers, “That was amazing. _You_ were amazing. I love you.” And it’s really not that different from their normal pillow talk, really.

“I love you, too, Blaine,” Kurt says, and he doesn’t really sound unsure anymore; he sounds satisfied, proud of himself. “We’re definitely doing that again.”

“Thank you, god!” Blaine exclaims and Kurt laughs at him.

“Now I need to go clean up since someone got me all messy.” 

Blaine’s twitches at that but he forces himself to chill out and stop picturing it. “Me too,” he says when he has himself under control, “But I’ll talk to you later?”

“Mmm, definitely,” Blaine says, “Love you.” He’s already contemplating a mid-morning nap.

“Love you, too,” Kurt says softly, then ends the call.

His therapist is probably going to tsk at him about last night when he tells her about the wine, call it a setback, but this morning is nothing but open lanes, green lights, progress! He’s kind of okay with that trade-off.

***

The revival of their sex life makes life a little easier. Counting down the days doesn’t seem like the end of the world anymore either, anticipation instead of dread because it’s only a few more months and they’ve come so far. Plus, he’s managed to wrangle his schedule so that he’ll have almost two whole weeks with Kurt during spring break; all he had to do was tell the school the extremely convenient truth that he would be looking at colleges in New York to get some extra days. Preparing for Regionals is keeping the whole glee club hopping, too, and he’s glad they’ll have that done with before the end of March so he doesn’t have to worry about it while he’s with Kurt. 

Letters start coming in from colleges, too, which just makes it all seem that much more real. He’s really going to New York, soon. The first acceptance letter is exciting and the second almost equally, but when he’s surrounded by letters he starts to wonder what the hell he was even thinking giving himself so many choices. He piles them all in a box and claps the lid on top. He can meet with Ms. Pillsbury and figure out what to do now, right after Regionals.

***

The first week of March he barely even has time to talk to Kurt because he’s so busy with wall-to-wall glee club rehearsals. It’s worth it, though, when they reach a decided victory, thanks in no small part, he hopes, to his excellent leadership. Kurt is ecstatic when he tells him the news and says they’ll do great at Nationals, surely bring home the title for a second year. Blaine isn’t as sure, but that’s not a problem for right now. Right now is for celebrating their victory. 

Sugar organized some sort of party in their honor at her mansion of a house and he’s not sure if she was that certain of their victory or if it just would have been a consolation party if things hadn’t worked out. Being stupidly rich apparently has some perks to it, though, because the party is well-stocked with food and drinks and, very surprising for a New Directions party, other people. Blaine doesn’t even know half the people he’s seen here tonight, they must not even go to McKinley. He thinks he recognizes a couple of people from Dalton even.

Blaine starts the party off very relaxed. He’s satisfied with their win, he has almost all of his friends here with him, and there’s good music to dance to. He and Sam have a couple of beers and he’s fine, he thinks he’s through the worst of it. He can do this. And then someone in the crowd recognizes him. She doesn’t look anything like the same as she had three years ago, but she’s still pretty; he’s pretty sure her name is Melissa, or something with an M and he’s almost positive he kissed her at some point in his Freshman year.

“Blaine!” she yells out excitedly, “Oh my god, Blaine, I can’t believe you’re here. Everybody at school said you totally died!”

“So very not dead,” he says, puffing out his chest and preening a little, “Better than ever, in fact.”

“This is so great,” probably-Melissa says, “I have got to tell Trish about this; she is never going to believe me!”

He grins, impressed by the fact that he’d apparently been more notable in his absence than he’d ever been with his presence.

“Come on!” think-it’s-Melissa says, tugging on his arm, “Let’s find Trish!”

Blaine shrugs back at Sam as he’s dragged away. Sam apparently judges the girl harmless, though, because he doesn’t step in. 

When he finishes his beer, might-be-Melissa finds him something purple to drink. He’s always liked the taste of purple. 

Eventually they do locate Trish and it turns out he sort of remembers her, too. She’d had braces back then, which had been a little dangerous when mixed with too much alcohol and kissing, but he thinks he came out of their encounter without too much damage so he’s not one to hold a grudge. Trish is totally excited and she and apparently-it’s-Marissa jump up and down and squeal loudly. Trish has to drag him off to find some friends he’s not expected to know because she wants to tell some story and needs him for a visual aid. It seems that at some point in time he’d accidentally removed one of the rubber bands from her braces while they were kissing and then almost swallowed it. He has no memory of such a thing happening, but honestly that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s not true. He doesn’t remember a lot of things from his first year of high school.

Trish’s friends are smoking and turning down the pass would be rude and he doesn’t want to be rude to these perfectly nice people he’s just met, so he takes it. Some time later he’s beginning to think he should probably figure out what ever happened to Sam and the rest of his friends. He’s worried about the baby glee clubbers, suddenly, and hopes someone remembered to take them home before it got too crazy. This is no place for freshmen. 

“I brought party favors!” Trish says, and Blaine doesn’t get it for a minute, but everybody else seems excited and he wants to be in on the joke, too. When she tells him to lick a piece of paper, he does. 

Nobody seems quite capable of holding onto a conversation after that, so Blaine wanders away. He was supposed to find Sam, he remembers, and he wanted to check on the babies. He gets another drink on the way, just because he’s thirsty and purple tastes even better than it did before, now it’s kind of zingy and it makes him think of the way he feels when he dances with Kurt. Dancing! He could totally be dancing right now. He finishes his drink and makes his way closer to the epicenter of the party, where the music is loudest. 

He’s dancing in the middle of a throng of people, bodies touching him on all sides in a way though should probably make him feel crowded but just feels amazing right now, when Sam ends up finding him. Sam drags him out of the crowd and he waves a little forlornly at all his dancing partners. It had been so warm and he misses it and why do people keep dragging him everywhere today? Finally they’re somewhere quieter and he can hear what Sam is saying to him.

“Blaine, are you okay, man?”

“I’m great!” he insists, and hugs Sam to prove just how great he’s doing.

“Okay,” Sam says, and detaches him gently, or well, tries to and is partially successful.

“Trish and Marlissa remembered me! From a long time ago, isn’t that great?”

“Yeah, that’s great, man. Listen, do you know what you took?”

Blaine just cocks his head at Sam quizzically, which would probably be more effective if he weren’t three inches from his face. But he likes having his arm around Sam’s shoulder so he can lean in and hug him whenever he wants to. Like right now, perhaps, because Sam is such a good friend to be so worried about Blaine.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Blaine says, because Sam doesn’t seem to have realized that, “I’m totally okay. I don’t think that was a real stamp, but it’s okay, I feel awesome! Everything feels really shiny and your hair looks like it tastes really good, can I lick it?”

He doesn’t actually wait for Sam to answer because it seems silly. Why would he say no? He licks a tiny little piece of hair that’s flying out of place anyway. It tastes as soft as it looks so he pats it back safely where it belongs.

“Please don’t lick my hair again,” Sam says, “I really do not want to have to explain this to your boyfriend.”

“Kurt!” Blaine exclaims, because that reminds him, “I love Kurt. I bet his hair tastes the softest.” Normally thinking about Kurt hurts a little because he’s not here, he’s far away in stupid New York, but right now that doesn’t seem important. He’ll get Kurt back soon and then he can taste his hair, but right now he should write a song about Kurt’s hair, so he can sing it to him. “Sam, I need to write a song. About Kurt’s hair.”

“Sure, buddy,” Sam says, “I’ll see what I can do for you.”

Sam pulls him outside, away from the lights and the noise, and then calls someone on his phone. Blaine isn’t really paying attention to that, though, because the _night sky_! It is so awesome up there! Every single one of those tiny little specks of light is its own amazing sun with maybe some planets, and other people could be on those planets and they might be staring up at their stars, right back at him. He should definitely write a song about that and when he releases an album it will be right before the song he’s going to write about Kurt’s amazing hair. 

He loses some time staring into the other worlds in the sky but eventually Sam is distracting him again, moving him towards his car, settling him in and buckling the seat belt around him. There’s a barbie doll wearing a nightgown in the seat next to him and he picks it up so he can look at it closer. Her hair does not taste soft at all, not like Kurt would, it tastes spikey, and he amuses himself for a while trying to hum the spikey tune that would go with that taste. They must have moved at some point because now they are stopping and Sam is coming to get him out of the car. The car door won’t open when Blaine tries it, but Sam must be magic because it works fine for him.

“I’m so sorry,” he can hear Sam saying to someone, “I didn’t realize anything like this would happen, and I didn’t want to take him to his place and dump him like this, and I don’t really want to have to explain to my little sister why the weird guy is licking her barbies, but I promised I’d try to look out for him, so I wanted to get him somewhere safe.”

“It’s okay, I’ll watch him,” whoever Sam’s talking to says, “He’s practically family anyway.”

Sam passes him over to the other person and lets him keep the barbie.

***

Blaine wakes up in Kurt’s old bedroom with no clue how he got there. He finds out over the course of breakfast that Sam had handed him over to Finn for safekeeping for the night (which he thinks he sort of remembers), and he’d woken up Burt and Carol (oops), and they’d taken turns sitting up with him until four in the morning while he wrote increasingly incomprehensible ballads about Kurt’s hair, aliens, barbie dolls with spikes, and the living room sofa. Apparently the sofa had tasted very loud and he hadn’t liked it much. Carol and Burt express their joint disappointment in the fact that he took unfamiliar drugs without thinking about it, but say they’re glad that they were able to be here for him. The mild dressing down makes him feel kind of warm and fuzzy inside and he hopes that isn’t a sign the drugs are still affecting him. Finn just tells him he made recordings of some of Blaine’s epics and wants to know if he should send the one about Kurt’s hair directly to his brother or if Blaine would rather clean it up and sing it to him in person. 

The Fluffy Hair Song isn’t half-bad actually. He really might clean it up and sing it to Kurt.

***

Kurt asks about what happened at the party and makes fun of Blaine for the parts that he remembers well enough to tell.

“And did you tell them you were taken?”

“Kurt!” Blaine protests, “They weren’t even hitting on me!”

“What can I say? I’m a little... possessive these days.”

“I’m all yours, promise,” Blaine says softly, then teases, “But if it makes you feel better, I could get it tattooed on my face or something.”

“Blaine!” Kurt protests, “Be serious!”

“I am! Okay, mostly. I am all yours; I’m not going to mess up again. We’re good. If anything this cements it because I got crazy when I didn’t really mean to, but I only let it happen in a situation where I would be safe.”

“Love you,” Kurt says, “So much, and I’m glad you had Sam and my family to take care of you. Keep in mind that this is definitely _not_ approval for doing drugs, but I’m kind of sad I missed out seeing it.”

“What, the videos Finn sent weren’t enough? I suppose we could always stage a repeat for your entertainment.”

“No,” Kurt says, and Blaine can picture his disapproving face, “No thank you. I’ll make it through somehow.”

“I can’t wait to see you,” Blaine says, “I miss you so much.”

“I miss you, too. But only a few more days and then we can make a giant scene at the airport and make everyone jealous.”

“Now I just have to make it through another week and a half of school.”

“Oh high school, how I do not miss you,” Kurt sighs.

“You’re not getting out of all of it,” Blaine points out, “I have to narrow it down with Ms. Pillsbury, but you’re going to help me make the final decision on which school to say yes to whether you like it or not.”

“Of course,” Kurt says, “I am strongly in favor of all activities relating to your impending presence in my city, trust me.”

“Our city,” Blaine corrects him.

“Well, we might have to share it with a few other people, but yeah, our city.”

***

Blaine really appreciates Ms. Pillsbury’s attention to detail sometimes. She quickly and easily helps him sort through letters. The few rejections are tossed in the trash. All the New York-adjacent back up schools go straight in the No pile. They evaluate the rest, and eventually it’s down to his top three. If he’s honest with himself, it’s his top two and the one he’s keeping in for the prestige and to prove to his parents that he could do it.

***

Then, finally, it’s the Wednesday morning before Spring break, and instead of getting ready for school, he’s heading for the airport. Arriving in New York this time around is a revelation, he’s full of complete eagerness rather than sick dread, and instead of trying to figure out how to find his way in an unfamiliar city, Kurt is waiting for him outside security. He can’t resist throwing himself bodily into Kurt’s arms and really, why would he? Kurt makes an “oomph” sound, but catches him and hugs him back just as tightly. They kiss like their lives depend on it and Blaine can’t believe he’s survived without this since Christmas.

Eventually they stop making a public spectacle long enough to head to baggage claim and pick up Blaine’s bag so they can make their way back to Kurt’s apartment. They hold hands like someone might try to separate them if they don’t hang on. Kurt’s apartment is a lot like he remembers but it’s even more lived in now, though still impressively stylish. He would wonder how they afford it, but the combined powers of Kurt and Rachel are not to be questioned and that’s that.

Rachel’s out all afternoon, so Kurt welcomes him properly to the city. New York sex is a little magical, Blaine thinks, somehow more satisfying. The first round is rushed; Blaine wants to touch Kurt everywhere and Kurt wants to renew his claim on Blaine and neither can seem to find a good reason to stop and slow down. They lounge in bed for a while after and it’s comfortable, just resting and kissing and talking quietly like they haven’t had the chance to do in far too long. Then the gentle occasional kisses ramp up into actual making out and the second round is even better. They’ve both learned a surprising amount from phone sex that they can put to use in person.

Kurt makes dinner and eventually Rachel comes home and they watch a movie together. Kurt and Blaine snuggle close the whole time, and somehow it’s all completely comfortable and normal. They move casually around each other as they get ready for bed and snuggle in to sleep like they’ve done it a thousand times instead of just a few. Blaine can hardly remember that this isn’t really his life yet because he so clearly belongs here. This is the New York first night he wants to remember.

***

Blaine has tours at his three college choices on Thursday and Friday while Kurt’s at work. Rachel helps him figure out the subway and he takes way too much pride in only getting lost once in two days. The visits go well, the schools are all impressive in their own way and unexpectedly welcoming, but it doesn’t really make his decision easy. 

Kurt and Blaine go out on a proper date Thursday night, and Friday they go to a karaoke bar and sing together. They each have a drink, but just one and Blaine doesn’t even really feel tempted to get another once it’s gone. During the weekend there’s a little more time to spend together and they make excellent use of it. The week of spring break is lots of time spent exploring the city on his own or with Rachel when she’s not busy and soaking up Kurt’s presence when he’s available. Kurt manages to wrangle a few early days and late mornings to maximize their time together, but whole days off just aren’t feasible. Kurt apologizes for that several times but Blaine’s honestly okay with it. As much as he misses Kurt when they’re separated by hundreds of miles, it’s easy to be comfortable with whatever time they get when they’re together like this, coming back to the same place to sleep at night. 

It feels like the trip lasts forever and no time at all. He’s not ready to leave when Sunday afternoon rolls around, but he and Kurt both manage to be strong and not cry at the airport. Before he turns his phone off for take-off, Blaine gets a text from Kurt that says “Miss you already” and it makes him smile.

***

After New York, Lima seems to lack color; everything is just faded and not quite as bright. School feels too normal and boring to stand, but he makes it through. Only two more months and he’ll be done for good.

His parents corner him Monday at dinner time.

“I trust your trip went well?” his mom says, and it seems weirdly not like a question, like he wouldn’t dare contradict her expectations.

“It was great,” he says, “I love New York.”

She makes a face at that, but doesn’t comment on his choice of city to relocate to.

“So I understand you visited some schools?” his dad says, because he’d had to explain a little bit to them about where he was going.

“Yes,” Blaine says firmly, “And it helped me reach a final decision.” As did talking to Kurt and Rachel and Ms. Pillsbury, people who know him and care about his happiness, exactly why he’s avoided talking about it with his parents as much as possible. “Though I was also accepted to the theatre program at Pace and the business school at Fordham, I’ve decided I want to go to Tisch.”

“Tisch?” his mom says, confused.

“You’re turning down Fordham?” his dad says, equally as confused.

“That’s right,” Blaine says, “It’s the drama school of NYU and they have great programs in theatre and music and I can also choose to take classes at the other NYU colleges.”

“You really want to go to school for all that drama stuff?” his mom says.

“What if you change your mind and decide you want to get a real job instead?” his dad says.

“I’m not going to change my mind, I’ve been sure about this for years, but if I did I’ll already be at NYU so it would be easy to pursue other options, too.”

“NYU,” his dad says thoughtfully, “That’s not so bad.”

“I’m glad you approve,” Blaine says, and doesn’t let any bitter sarcasm come through in his voice. “I also wanted you to know that I intend to start classes this summer so I’ll be moving right after graduation.”

“What’s the rush?” his mom asks.

“I’m just eager to get started,” Blaine says. “And I miss Kurt.”

“That’s that boy you’re seeing, right?” she says.

“Yes, Mom. Kurt is the boy I’ve been dating for over two years now.”

His dad looks like he finds this all a little distasteful, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Right,” his mom says, “I knew that.”

Blaine escapes the conversation soon after that.

***

Blaine settles back into the rhythm of being away from Kurt, only being able to talk to him sometimes and figuring out how to do without him the rest of the time, how much that stings especially at first. It’s April now, though, so he’s counting down the days until May and then, at the end of May, Nationals. After that, Kurt will be here for Graduation and Mr. Shue and Ms. Pillsbury’s wedding and then, finally, they’ll both be back in New York. Every teacher in the school seems to realize all at once that they’re running out of time to cram knowledge into young malleable minds, so every class kicks up a notch at once. It’s not too hard to lose himself in it all for a while. At least he doesn’t have to convince Kurt of the joys of phone sex all over again.

Despite how he’s been waiting for it, May sneaks up on Blaine. Suddenly it’s all last minute practice for Nationals and finishing up end of the year homework. They’re amazing at Nationals, but they’re not the very best, still not quite recovered from how many new members they had to integrate in only a year. Blaine finds that he’s not terribly sad. He got to win last year and he trusts that they’ll only get smoother and probably be back on top next year. He goes to Sugar’s consolation party but he doesn’t have anything to drink. He has to leave early to make it to a skype date with Kurt.

“I’m sure you were amazing,” Kurt reassures him, seeming to think Blaine’s a lot more broken up about the 4th place finish than he actually is. 

“Kurt, I’m okay,” Blaine says for what feels like the 10th time, “Really, but if you want to make me feel better I do miss seeing you naked.”

Kurt looks briefly offended. He’s never quite warmed to the idea of that kind of sex no matter how much he likes phone sex now.

“Sorry,” Blaine says, “But can you blame me for trying? Who wouldn’t want to look at you?”

Kurt blushes but he smiles, too. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“Yep, it’s one of the things you love about me.”

“It is,” Kurt admits begrudgingly.

***

Kurt has to cut his trip really close to be able to get away for Blaine’s graduation on Thursday and the wedding on Saturday, flying out Thursday after a half day of work and going back Sunday afternoon. He doesn’t get to see his boyfriend before the ceremony but it’s easy to find him when he hears all the cheers as he crosses the stage to receive his diploma. Kurt is there with his dad and Carole and Finn and the rest of the non-graduating glee kids and everyone’s families. Blaine’s parents are out there somewhere, too, but he doesn’t really worry about looking for them. 

The ceremony seems like it lasts for ages, but finally it’s done and he’s free, for real, forever from high school. It feels like a weight lifted from his chest. The auditorium descends into immediate pandemonium as every graduate tries to meet up with their family at once in not enough space. He only finds Kurt because he has a good idea of where he was before the room exploded and because Kurt has a very loud, very identifiable whistle. He pulls Kurt in close to kiss him as soon as he’s close enough and Kurt responds enthusiastically. It’s nice for once to just not care at all about who’s watching and really, there’s so much going on that no one even notices except for their friends, who promptly start whistling and making catcalls. 

He’s still flushed from kissing, holding onto Kurt and grinning like a maniac while people repeatedly congratulate him and hug him, when his parents find him.

His mom says, “Congratulations, sweetie!” in a too-bright and cheerful voice and gives him a quick hug. His dad just pats him awkwardly on the shoulder. 

“Where would you like to go to celebrate?” his dad says, and Blaine shrugs because he figures they won’t be happy if he answers honestly and says he’d rather have dinner with Kurt’s family. His mom eventually suggests somewhere suitable for the occasion and his dad agrees with it. Blaine doesn’t argue.

“Are you ready to go?” his dad asks and so Blaine starts trying to separate himself from Kurt. It’s almost physically painful; he feels like he’s barely been allowed to say hi, and though he’ll see him later tonight at the McKinley graduation party, he doesn’t want to let go.

“Kurt, would you like to come with us? You’re more than welcome to.”

That’s approximately the last thing Blaine expected to hear come out of his mom’s mouth, but he’s pathetically grateful.

“I’d love to, Mrs. Anderson,” Kurt says, because he’s unfailingly polite, even though these people have barely acknowledged his existence for years. 

***

Dinner is about as weird as Blaine expects, mostly with Kurt sharing amusing but family-friendly anecdotes from work or about New York life in general and Mom making polite but brief small talk. Blaine just stares at his parents, wondering if they were replaced with pod people.

When Kurt excuses himself to go to the restroom, Mom leans in and says, “He really is a nice boy.”

“I know,” Blaine says, dumbfounded, because his mom has never tried to talk about things like this with him, “I pretty much think he’s the most amazing guy in the world.”

His mom smiles at that and says, “I’m glad he makes you happy.” The whole concept that his mom cares about whether he’s happy is a revelation that’s shooting holes in his worldview. 

“Very happy,” Blaine reassures her, “Thanks.”

She settles back into her seat by the time Kurt comes back and dinner goes on as normal.

After dessert, Blaine starts making noises about how he and Kurt should go because they have a party to get to. They make their way out of the restaurant as a group and start to split towards their respective cars at the door.

“Blaine, you be careful,” Dad says before they turn to go.

“Sure,” Blaine says, trying to act like that’s a totally normal thing for his dad to say.

“Kurt, you’ll keep an eye on him?” Mom says, like that’s not weird either.

“Certainly, Mrs. Anderson,” Kurt says, excelling in the role of perfect boyfriend.

“And in New York, too? You’ll take care of him? I worry about him sometimes, he forgets to be safe.” Mom has definitely been replaced by a pod person; Blaine really can’t find another explanation.

“I’ll always watch out for him,” Kurt says, voice softening as he gives Blaine a warm look.

“Good,” Mom says, “Have a good time then, boys. It was lovely meeting you again, Kurt.”

Then the insanity is over and they head toward Blaine’s car. Blaine waits until he and Kurt settle in and shut the doors before he says, “What the hell just happened?”

“I have no idea,” Kurt replies, shaking his head slowly back and forth. 

***

The party is in full swing when Kurt and Blaine get there. It’s mostly just people they know so it’s not a big party, but it’s pretty wild. Someone’s playing DJ so there are loud dance beats thumping through the whole house and the kitchen is full of seemingly endless drink choices. Blaine gets them each a cup of something that tastes of pineapple and a lot of alcohol. 

“Wow, high school party punch,” Kurt says, “That stuff really does pack a punch.”

They dance together a lot and with most of their friends at least once. Kurt declines a second drink, but Blaine doesn’t bother because his boyfriend is here and he’s surrounded by friends so there’s a fairly ironclad guarantee he’s not going to accidentally fall into bed with someone else. Blaine figures he must be getting kind of handsy because Kurt keeps relocating his hands back to his waist. He can’t help wanting to touch, though, and Kurt is finally here, right in front of him.

“Let’s go get some air,” Kurt yells in his ear so he’ll be audible, and then takes Blaine’s hand to lead him out to the back porch. 

It’s deserted, which surprises Blaine because in his experience this is the kind of place the smokers always take over, but that’s not a big part of this group’s population probably. Privacy, though, that’s golden. He leans back against the wall, pulling Kurt after him and kisses him. Kurt lets him, kissing back and holding him. When Blaine tries to open Kurt’s jeans, Kurt stills his hand. 

“Sorry Blaine, but there’s no way I’m having sex with you on someone’s porch with a party going on ten feet away.”

“But I want to touch you,” Blaine says and pouts.

Kurt leans in and gently bites the pouty lower lip, apparently unable to resist and Blaine distracts him kissing for a few more minutes.

“Nope, quit trying to change my mind,” Kurt insists, finally pulling back. “Maybe we should go back in; apparently you’re immune to the wonders of fresh air.”

“Okay,” Blaine accedes gladly because dancing is fun, too.

“And keep it PG-13 this time?” Kurt suggests.

“Are you sure you want to leave me that much wiggle room?” Blaine teases.

“What have I done?” Kurt mock-complains.

Kurt lets Blaine get away with pretty much permanently attaching hands to his ass this time and that’s enough to keep Blaine more than content. He gets in a little trouble when Kurt hands him off to dance with Sam and Brittany for a minute. When he gets back Sam is trying futilely to keep Blaine from grabbing his ass while they dance while Brittany laughs and fails to offer the least bit of assistance.

“Hey, that’s my boyfriend,” Kurt says, pretending to be mad.

“Please take him,” Sam pleads, only half-joking, “I’m worried about my virtue here.”

“Kurt!” Blaine says when he notices he’s back, “I missed you.” Sam doesn’t have to pry him off because Blaine throws himself toward his boyfriend.

“I think I’ve had about enough for tonight,” Kurt says, “Want to go?”

“No more dancing?” Blaine says sadly.

“Blaine, I want to take you home. To bed?”

“Oh!” Blaine suddenly gets where this is going. “Goodbye!” he yells out to everyone at large and moves so fast toward the door that Kurt is kind of dragged behind.

***

Waking up Friday morning is weird because he’s hungover, though not too badly, but he has Kurt to snuggle with. He’s never had both before. He goes back to sleep and hopes the hangover will resolve itself by the time he wakes again.

When he wakes up again, he does feel better, but Kurt’s already up and out of bed, too. He’s not sure that counts as a fair trade-off. He tries to look unlike the guy who drunkenly debauched Burt’s son in this bed last night but there’s not much he can do, so he gives up and makes his way out of Kurt’s bedroom, hoping no one else is around. Luckily it’s only Finn and Kurt around and Finn makes himself scarce after one mocking eyebrow raise toward Blaine. 

“I’ve got to go home and clean up, I moved my final appointment with my therapist to today,” he tells Kurt.

“Okay. I’ll see you later?”

“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

“Glad to hear it,” Kurt says, “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

***

The last meeting with Lindsey is mostly wrapping up evaluation of how he feels now compared to when he started. All together, he’s pretty satisfied with his progress. He feels more comfortable with himself, a little less intensely dependent on Kurt, and he’s working on the escapism tendencies he realizes he has now. Lindsey’s pretty satisfied with his progress, too, and reminds him that if he changes his mind about finding a new therapist once he gets to New York, she will still be happy to help him find someone even after he’s gone. He says he’ll keep it in mind.

“One last thing, though,” he says, and tells her about how weird his mom was acting yesterday.

“Have you considered,” she says, “That maybe the problem with your mom was never that she didn’t love you and want you to be happy, but that she really didn’t know how to talk to you and be there for you? It doesn’t change the hurt you went through because you were missing that part of your life, but it doesn’t have to be too late just because you won’t be living there anymore. If she wants to talk about it now, my best advice is to talk to her. She’s the only one who can tell you what she’s thinking.”

He says he’ll take it under advisement and thanks her for everything she’s done for him. If it weren’t for her, he probably would have lost Kurt for good and he doesn’t even want to think about what his life would be like if that had happened.

***

Blaine spends most of the rest of the weekend with Kurt, though he goes home to sleep after the first night because he can only handle so many side-glances from Burt without blushing and losing his cool.

The wedding on Saturday is a beautiful event and all of Mr. Shue’s glee club kids past and present are there for the event. The reception is lively, being most of the same crowd as the graduation party, though decidedly less drunk this time.

Seeing Kurt off to the airport is only momentarily sad this time because it isn’t more than a token parting. He’s heading to New York on Wednesday; he just wanted to leave himself a few days to pack up and put things in storage.

“I love you,” Kurt says, “I’ll see you soon.”

“I can’t wait,” Blaine says, and it’s the first airport trip he’s been able to smile for. “This is finally it. Don’t forget to make me some closet space!”

“I know, I promised.” They share one last quick brush of lips before Kurt goes toward security.

***

By Tuesday evening, Blaine is pretty much done with his packing. He has a couple of large suitcases to take with him with the most important things he’ll need; everything else he wants to have is packed into shipping boxes so his parents can send it after he’s gone. He’s filled a couple of boxes with stuff to be donated somewhere and a few more with things he doesn’t want to take to New York but doesn’t want to get rid of either so they can go into storage.

He’s marking which boxes are which with a big black sharpie when his mom pokes her head into his room. 

“Hi,” he says, startled. He doesn’t really remember the last time she came to his room looking for him. “I’m just marking which boxes are which.” He points out the organization scheme and she nods at it.

“So my baby’s really leaving tomorrow,” she says and she sounds sad.

He doesn’t know what to do, is completely unprepared for this situation. “Not... not forever? I can still come back and visit? For, like, holidays and stuff?” He doesn’t mean to sound quite so unsure, but he’s thrown entirely off his game by this conversation.

“Will you really?”

“If you want me to,” Blaine says, “I didn’t think you would. You never really seemed to... care before, if I was here or not.”

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry if we made you feel like that. I love you so much; I just never knew how to show you.” She looks down at her lap, seeming to gather her thoughts for a minute, “It was always so much easier with Cooper.”

“I always figured you and Dad just liked him more,” Blaine says flat-out.

“Oh baby, don’t think that. It’s not true. We love you just as much as your brother; it was just harder with you. Cooper was always so demanding, you know? You could not ignore that kid for a minute because he’d be right there on you, demanding attention right from the moment he was born, but you were... you were always so much quieter. It never seemed like you needed anything from me, from us. I’m sorry I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you by thinking you were okay.”

“Oh, Mom,” Blaine says, and he’s trying not to cry, but it’s not going to work for long, “It means so much to me to hear you say that. Thank you.”

When she hugs him close, he loses the fight and lets a few tears leak out onto her shoulder.

“I love you,” she whispers and he can hear that she’s crying now, too, which shouldn’t be surprising, but is anyway. “Can you make me less blubbery and embarrassing when you tell your therapist about this?”

He laughs, mostly out of shock, pulls away so he can look at her. “I didn’t think you knew about that.” Though in retrospect, he should have because insurance or no, the bills had to end up somewhere his parents would see eventually.

“We’ve known for a while,” she says, “I just didn’t want to bring it up because I didn’t know if you would want to talk about it. I didn’t know if it was... about us, or anything.”

“No, mom, it wasn't like that. It wasn’t really about you at all.” That might not be the strictest of truths, but it feels fair.

“I’m sorry, baby, I knew we should have sent you to therapy after what happened at that dance, but I thought we could work it out on our own. Then, after you started at Dalton, you seemed like you were doing so well I didn’t want to drag it all up again.”

“It wasn’t really all about that, either, though that was some of it. I had a lot of things going wrong in my head that I had to get sorted out. I... I did something stupid. I cheated on Kurt and it almost totally messed things up for good.”

“Oh baby, but you love him so much.”

“I know, that was the worst part. I loved him so much, do love him so much, I couldn’t even make sense of why I did it. After I completely freaked out when I was trying to apologize, he said I should talk to somebody and it ended up being exactly what I needed. Now Kurt and I are stronger than ever.”

“I’m so glad you made it through, you two make each other so happy, and it’s obvious to anyone who sees you.”

It fills him with a warm, joyful feeling to hear that his mom looked at him with Kurt and could see the love there, that she approves wholeheartedly of the man he loves. He never expected to have this. He hugs her again and whispers, “Thank you.”

***

Both his parents come with to take Blaine to the airport the next day. They stop before the security area and his mom grabs him in a tight hug. “I love you, baby,” she says, and “You better call me when you get there to let me know you’re safe.”

“I will,” he promises, “I love you.”

He starts to turn away after she lets go, but then his dad has his arm on his shoulder. He pulls him into a brief, one-armed hug and looks him in the eye to say, “Call if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay,” Blaine says, “I will.”

“You’re going to do great,” Dad says, and that seems to be all the emotion he’s up for today because he looks away.

“Thanks, Dad,” Blaine says, “I love you both.” He smiles at them and they smile back at him before he leaves.

***

As soon as he lands in New York, he calls his mom like he promised, then sets about finding Kurt. He spends the whole trip back to the apartment trying to explain the weirdness of suddenly finding out his parents like him to Kurt but Kurt doesn’t quite seem to be getting it.

“Of course they love you, Blaine. They’re your parents and you’re you. Anyone would have to be crazy not to love you.”

“So I can trust in your sanity, then?” Blaine teases.

“Hmm, you’re right; maybe that’s not the best measure.”

“Kurt!”

“Yes, of course I love you, you doofus.”

“Sometimes a boy just wants to hear it,” Blaine says.

“Anytime,” Kurt promises, “Forever.”

They walk into the apartment together, each tugging along one of the large suitcases. He quickly figures out that Kurt’s definition of clearing out some space in the closet involves approximately six inches, but they’ll figure it out. He’s finally home, with Kurt. They can do anything.


End file.
